Truths
by squeekness
Summary: Logan finds out some truths of his own. Origins retold. Part 16 of my Kimble series.
1. Chapter 1

Summary : Logan finds out some truths of his own. Origins retold. Part 16 of my Kimble series.

Notes : Rated M for language, violence, and sexual situations.

AU but only because I chose to change a few things in my dear friends' histories for simplification, nothing drastic so please forgive. I've been working on this story for years so I do ask that you don't use any of my non-Marvel universe characters without my permission. I love my Siskans as I do my children.

For those who are interested, art for Consequences has been added to my webpage.

Thank you for your comments, BJ2, it's always nice to hear from you. And you, too, vivi. I will be posting each week on Friday if I can. I will be returning to work this week so I will have less time. You may have noticed my more recent instalments have been shorter. I thought it was better to post smaller to keep them coming on time.

I will say a couple quick things before we begin. You have probably noticed that I intend to go over Origins in this section. While I did enjoy the series that revealed Wolverine's ancient past, I found it to be flawed in a couple of areas and decided to give it my spin in here for my own amusement. I tried to be true to the old Weapon X lore in the early issues of Wolverine and blended it with Origins, making it a little more of what I had expected to see in Origins and didn't get. I hope you will not be too upset with my twisting of the facts and forgive, this is AU after all. Thanks. --**Sq.**

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(One)

Nightcrawler stood in the doorway of the common room, his long blue tail swishing in silent agitation as he watched Warren click the balls around the pool table. Warren was normally a decent player, today he was just moving the balls about, thinking rather than playing an actual game. Kurt's teammate was trying to figure something out.

Kurt was content to watch for the moment. He knew Angel was unaware he was being observed. Kurt had a way of blending into the shadows and it was late evening. The gloom was concealing him until he chose to make Warren aware he was there.

Kurt had his reasons for being concerned. The mission to rescue Kimble had been a disaster and had caused a bit of a ripple through the house. Both Gambit and Wolverine had left the house that morning, disappearing off to parts unknown. Rogue and Manny had spilt up and the girl was off taking her frustrations out in the Danger Room.

It hadn't been easy for any of the members of the Blue team and Kurt reasoned Angel was upset about it as well. Not that Angel and Kurt had had a big role in it -- they had been placed on the side on purpose and told only to observe the events at Cameron Bishop's place and not to engage. Charles had been concerned that Warren was still too new to go all out. It had rankled. Warren had been on the rooftop, doing as he had been instructed, but his wings had twitched with a restlessness Kurt knew all too well.

Angel may have had the wings of a bird, but he had the heart of a lion. Before he had been so seriously injured, he was one to get into the thick of things and never held back, especially when a teammate was at stake. He could fight and brawl with the best of them. Now, on the Kimble mission, it must have been frustrating for Angel to have to hold himself in reserve like that. He wanted to chase Kyle down but was ordered not to engage, only to report, and that was what Angel did. Now, Angel was stewing about something.

"Are you well, mon fruend?" Kurt finally asked, keeping his voice low so as not to startle his teammate.

Warren didn't startle, in fact he smiled just a tiny bit without ever taking his eyes off the cue ball. He struck it and dunked his target, the six ball, into the desired pocket. "I was wondering when you were going to ask."

Nightcrawler laughed softly, he hadn't been as stealthy as he'd thought after all, and entered the room, taking a seat on the nearby sofa. He hoped that Warren might open up to him. It was an unspoken fact that Kurt was an excellent listener. He kept everyone's secrets.

Warren struck another ball. He wasn't playing in any particular order, he was just taking shots at random. "Do you think it was worth it?" he asked after a moment.

"Vas vat worth it?"

Warren straightened and looked at Kurt, leaning on his stick a little. "All of that fuss over somebody who didn't want to be with us anyway?"

Kurt sat back on the sofa, happy now that Warren had initiated the conversation. "Of course it vas worth it. Ze look on Remy's face told me it vas so."

Angel nodded and returned to the table, that thoughtful look in his eyes. It was a full minute before he said, "I never thought he was capable of being friends with anybody."

Kurt smiled a little, thinking how Warren always avoided saying Remy's name, Gambit or otherwise, unless he absolutely had to. "Maybe Remy isn't the man you think he is."

Angel ruffled his feathers a little, considering this. "You know, when I was hanging there, pinned so helplessly, I made a promise that I would kill whoever had done that to me. Not just for my sake, but for the Morlocks as well."

"I understand that, I do. But sometimes revenge is not ze best option. Zere is forgiveness."

Angel grunted softly and hit another ball. It wasn't exactly in agreement. They had had this conversation before. The thing was, Warren had seen that devastated look in Gambit's eyes when they had all met up back at the house. It hadn't been an easy thing to see. It was easier for him to regard Gambit as unfeeling, it made him easier to hate. But he couldn't hate the man who had looked like that. The fact that Gambit had left the way he had only made that feeling stronger.

"It's okay not to hate him, you know," Kurt offered. He could see Warren's indecision and it pleased him. Anything was better than the blind hatred Angel had felt for all these years since the Massacre. Perhaps Kimble in his indirect way had helped.

"I'm not there yet, Kurt," Warren said, grinning just slightly. He might have avoided confrontation in the field, but he was mentally sparring with Kurt right now. "You don't know what it was like for me."

"You're right. I do not," Kurt replied. "And I would not have wished zat on anyone. But zere is value in human suffering."

"Value?" Warren questioned sharply.

"Many people think that suffering is a curse, but sometimes it is up to us to embrace it. To rise above it. It can make us stronger and build our character. Would you deny zat you are a different man now zan you were?"

"No. But I won't say suffering is a good thing."

"Ah, but you misunderstand. Suffering refines us. If we did not know pain, we would not cherish love as much, I think. Sometimes it takes a loss to teach us to appreciate."

Well, Warren knew that one well enough. There wasn't a day that went by that he did not miss his wings, full and restored. He could fly now, yes, but it wasn't the same. He wished now with all his hear that he could have done something different to change the outcome, but the fact was, he'd seen people in danger and he charged in. He would do the same thing again today without a doubt. He just wished the price for his courage hadn't been so steep.

Kurt continued, now that he had Angel's full attention. "Think of all the calamity we've seen. Yes, it has caused some strife, but we also seen where it brought some people together. Some may think of it as bad for me to say, but with each loss we suffer, the X-men have banded that much tighter."

Warren nodded, moving around the table again. When he had first been injured, he had been startled at how many team members had come to see him. He hadn't wanted to see anyone at the time, but they kept coming anyway, his hospital room had filled with cards and flowers. When he looked back on it, it was their concern and Henry's tireless efforts to regain his flight that had helped him pull through that personal disaster. He had also seen other times where the enemy thought they could be divided, but they still managed to pull together that much more tightly.

"I wonder if that's true this time, elf. I heard both Logan and Remy have left."

"Yes. But zey will return," Kurt replied, rising to take a pool cue of his own. He set the balls and motioned for them begin a game, a game that Warren accepted. "When zey are ready."


	2. Chapter 2

(Two)

Logan was ready to come home, oh yes. He was having a difficult evening, one he hadn't expected. He had been riding his motorcycle in Upstate New York when he was taken down by a couple of Jael's thugs. He was then taken before the half breed terrorist, Jael, who next proceeded to sic a powerful telepath on him. Now Wolverine found himself here in the twisted labyrinth of his own mind, not a pleasant place to be. He'd been sucked into some kind of whirlwind and tumbled about.

He had expected to land on a hard surface because he was falling, but instead found himself just suddenly standing in a large room of what had to be a huge mansion. There were large glass windows looking out onto gardens and fields rich with crops. Looking outside one of the windows was a small boy, about seven or eight years in age. He had soft black hair curling about his neck and steel grey eyes. He was sitting on a plush red cushion, a dog curled up at his feet. He was oblivious to his visitors, he was watching events happening outside.

"Recognize him?" Tanya asked, walking over to the child.

The boy gave no sign he was being spied upon. He continued to gaze outside at a man who was riding a horse. The man was tall and smiling, someone who gave off an air of casual ease – so unlike the boy who watched him.

"That's you," Tanya said, indicating the child, and next pointed to the man. "...and that is your father."

Wolverine came closer, he couldn't help himself. As he neared the boy, facts tumbled into this brain. _My name is James Howlett._ _That's my dog, Callie. I got her for Christmas from my father._ _My name is James Howlett and this is my father's house. We live up on the Hill in Alberta, Canada._ _The year is 1906! My God...!_

Wolverine moved to the window, but the man outside had dismounted and entered the house. He heard loud voices in the hallway behind him and turned. He knew these voices, the newly opened part of him did. His father and grandfather were arguing again. They always did this. His grandfather never approved of anything his father did, especially about how young James was being raised. He was going to be a soft little boy, crazy in the head like his mother was.Young James disliked all the bickering and tuned them out, fighting the pain he experienced every day.He suffered from terrible allergies, most likely a symptom of living in such a stressful environment.He lived in a rich man's house, but was surrounded by an unhealthy constant air of verbal violence.

Wolverine was jerked again when there came that loud key turning sound and he knew he was once more moving in time, Tanya was in charge of this show and moving things along at her pace, not his. He found himself now outside on a dirt path close to the house. He stepped back as young James barreled past him with two other children, a girl and another small boy. _That's Rose! And that...that's Dog! _

"Look again, James," Tanya whispered to him again. "The boy. He's more than you think."

Tanyawas right. Wolverine took a good long look at the boy's face and a sniff of his air revealed the truth. _That's...that's Creed! I'd know that scent anywhere!_

Wolverine couldn't hide his surprise. He and Victor Creed, the fiend that earned his well deserved title of Sabretooth, had a rivalry that spanned decades. For years they chased each other around, fighting and slashing at each other like animals. They had met in the service during the early seventies, neither one seeming to remember the other, and worked together on several projects. Over time, Creed's violence and appetite for cruelty became a sore spot between them and drove them to become bitter enemies. Creed constantly teased him for being weak, for not giving into the beast as he had. They went their separate ways and clashed violently whenever their paths crossed again, killing each other time and time again only to walk away and heal up before clashing when they found each other once more. It was an endless cycle of useless violence that accomplished nothing but caused the rift between them to grow further and further apart. It seemed that Wolverine would now be forced to re-evaluate what he once knew about his violent and cruel adversary.

Rose was the name of the pretty young girl who had come to the house to be a playmate for young James. She was several years older than him, but not too young to romp and play. She was dressed in the good clothes of the house and had long flowing red hair and flashing green eyes. Wolverine couldn't stand still, he took off after the kids, his heart racing as his mind once more filled with facts about his life, long forgotten.

Dog _(that's Creed!)_, well he was the grounds keeper's son. He was a couple of years older than James and bigger in size. His dirty brown hair was long around his shoulders and tangled with leaves from their game. They were all close in age and the only children here. This was their first summer together as a trio and they had grown very close. They were the best of friends. (_Me and Sabretooth friends? Yeah, that'll be the day_!) But it was true, he felt a surge of affection for the young boy named Dog he couldn't deny.

Dog had eyes only for Rose, she was the brightest thing in his universe and he could do little to hide it. James (_that's me!_) loved to joke around with Dog about it. There was no way Dog would ever get his wish, Rose was way out of his league. She was little more than a servant in the house but had come from a good family. No one knew Dog's real name, they all just called him that as a nickname. He looked like a normal boy in most respects, but his fingers were blunt and malformed, it didn't stop him from being able to play and romp with the rest of them. He was always dressed in ragged, ripped up clothing and was barefoot. Dog never had shoes, he was too poor. He was filthy and dirty all the time because he had no running water where he lived. He stayed in a tiny one room shack at the bottom of the Hill with his dad, Thomas Logan. Thomas was an embittered old drunk who frequently beat Dog with his belt. Dog was always covered in bruises and cuts, but never bothered to explain them.

Thomas Logan, the grounds keeper...

Wolverine was shocked once more as they now traveled past Dog's father, half drunk under a tree and now roused from a stupor by their racket. "God damned kids!" Thomas Logan growled in a low gruff voice eerily similar to Wolverine's. He was the spitting image of Wolverine himself but...but..._This man is not my father. My dad is John...John Howlett...at least, I'm supposed to think he is. Looks like dear old Mom has a skeleton 'r two in her closet._

"Dog! Git yer ass over here!" Thomas bellowed.

Dog immediately cringed and lowered his eyes. "Yes, papa."

"What are ya doin'! You gots work ta do! C'mere, boy!"

Dog came up to his father, cowering with his head down and he showed no surprise when his old man started to unbuckle his belt. He made no sound as the man began to beat him without mercy, so used to this was he. The sound of the lash was loud, but not louder than the look of silent agony on Dog's tiny face as he cried. Having been beaten by a belt himself more than once, Wolverine was on intimate terms with such a high level of pain and torment.

_Victor..no...I never would have wanted this for you._ Wolverine couldn't help himself but think. Of all the punishments he had ever wished upon the merciless Sabretooth, this wasn't one of them. It occurred to him that he never once questioned how Victor had become the savage killer he was. He had been that way for as long as Logan could remember and he had accepted it as part of Creed's nature and personality. Now he knew otherwise.

James and Rose could do nothing but watch as their companion was viciously whipped and then dragged away. Dog was only nine.

Wolverine howled as he was sucked through the whirlwind again. He heard the exaggerated noise of key turning loudly in a lock, a sound he was becoming more and more to dread. Now he was back in the house again. He saw his younger self once more, only older now and in his early teens. He was a sickly boy, had been all his life, and frail. It hadn't gone away as he had grown older. There was some kind of commotion going on in his mother's room. His mother, Elizabeth, was a quiet thing, not quite steady in her head. She had suffered some kind of breakdown years ago and was often listless and dazed as she hid herself away in her rooms. James didn't see that much of her. Now there was screaming and shouting. James followed the noise and burst into the room to see what was going on, a ghostly Wolverine right behind.

Thomas Logan was there with Dog, now a young teenager like James, but stronger and well muscled. Thomas was holding a shotgun to James' father's head, holding him hostage. Thomas had been fired earlier in the day and was now taking his revenge. He was going to take Elizabeth for himself, she belonged to him in the real sense that mattered. Thomas had dragged Rose up here with him, he had used her to gain access to the room.

Dog was behind him, his loyalty and submission to his father beaten into him after all these years. The boy had grown up hard and mean from the daily abuse and little resembled the playful youth James used to play with. His eyes held only cruelty and anger at a world that had never shown him an ounce of pity or mercy. At the tender age of fifteen and not quite a mutant himself yet, Victor Creed was well on his way to becoming the monster that was his destiny.

Wolverine watched in horror as Thomas pulled the trigger and the man who had raised him was dead. James was screaming and running into the room and slashing, slashing out with hands that held claws for the first time...

Wolverine startled in place as he watched the drama play out in front of him like a sick movie._ My claws are real! They are made of bone not just metal! They put metal over all my bones! All my bones! My claws are real, they're mine!_

His claws were real, yes, but they didn't look like the ones he had now. They were made of solid bone, hard as nails and razor sharp. They were half the length of the ones he had now, the Adamantium had added size and sharpness to his built in defense system. It didn't make what he had in that moment any less deadly.

James first slashed the face of Dog, sending him crashing to the floor. He next raked them across the belly of Thomas Logan, the man Wolverine now realized had to be his true father in the genetic sense. Thomas had had an affair with John Howlett's wife and she had kept it a secret. Thomas screamed and fell to the floor as his guts spilled out over his feet. This was the first time Wolverine had ever popped his claws, he had done it on instinct, and sure as shit, he'd used them to kill.

James howled in agony as his mutation came out with a bang. His hands were clawed, his father was dead...both of them. He was a child and having a breakdown, the first one of many to come. His ears rushed with sound and his nose exploded with smells only dimly imagined moments before. Rose was there and clutching at him. "James! James! Who are you?" She was in shock from his transformation.

He couldn't answer but turned to his mother for comfort. "Momma!"

"Get away from me, you abomination!" she howled and jerked away from him, screaming in terror. James turned tail and ran, his new found hearing barely registering the sounds of his mother reaching for Thomas' gun and blowing her own brains out. Her secret lover was gone and she was undone.

James was running outside...outside into the snow. It was full on winter and the snow was deep, deep enough to kill. Rose was there, clutching him once more and bringing him to safety. They were now fugitives on the run, blamed for the murders and had nowhere to go.

Wolverine had trailed them out of the house and out into the snow, his reeling mind trying to comprehend all these new facts about himself. _My name is James Howlett and Sabretooth is my brother...my half brother. They screwed with our heads at Weapon X, stole our memories._ _We always hated each other, we just never really knew why...but I do now,_ Logan was realizing with a lot of regret. Things didn't have to be the way were between them. Not any more.

He now knew what happened next, it was all coming back to him in a flood. James had fled with Rose into the wilds of Canada, leaving Dog behind to fend for himself. _I took his Rose...that's what he sees. If he even knows. I have to talk to him...I have to—!_

But it was worse than that, he knew it. Yes, he and Rose moved on. They made their way to one of the old mining camps and stayed there. James was scrawny at first, but now that his mutation had kicked in, it didn't last. He grew big if not exactly tall, and strong from the hard labor. Soon he discovered he was a skilled hunter as well. He had been driven to it, there was little food in the camp and whatever extra he could catch came in handy. He learned how to trap and shoot and even to kill with a knife, but never with his claws, no.

James thought he had left his troubles behind him. He began to forget who he had been and concentrated on the here and now. His mind scarred over the wounds of his mind like it would any other injury and time did the rest. He forgot all about Thomas and Dog and the house on the Hill, thinking on it, if he ever did, as a bad dream. He never used his claws and stubbornly refused to acknowledge they existed. He could kill for food, but he would never use them on a human again. _Yeah, right. That didn't last too long, _Logan lamented to himself.

He saw his past stream by him like a dream. They came here to this camp and grew older. Rose grew up real fine. She was so pretty. James was slow about noticing, he regarded her more as a sister, but that began to change.Before too long, he fell in love with her. The feeling was mutual and she took him to bed one snowy, stormy night. She was his first lover and his first true love. She was so beautiful... The thought of her made Logan shiver and he cried out softly. He cried out because he knew what was going to happen next. It was all coming back to him.

Dog wasn't finished with them, no. He wanted his Rose, the one girl he had ever truly loved, even if it was in his own twisted way. It took some time, a couple of years, but he finally tracked them down. It didn't take long for him to see and smell what was going on. His own mutation had kicked in now he was here and in his prime. He had really put on some size now that he was older and he was cleaner from all of the snow. His hair was long and blonde, it had lightened with age and a good rinse. There was no mistaking his future identity. This was Sabretooth.

Dog saw James in love with his girl and his anger surged. He made a decision then. If he couldn't have Rose, no one else would either. He came up on her when she was alone. He begged her to go with him, but she refused, fleeing from him in terror. He chased her down and raped her viciously, using his fists and his claws to destroy her face. Still he wasn't satisfied. The anger in him was much too powerful, he was going to punish her for not loving him, for taking off with the other guy. He turned her loose in the woods and hunted her down for hours, slaughtering her for the whore he now believed her to be.

James came home from the mining camp in a happy mood, it was his birthday and today he was going to ask Rose to marry him. He knew she would, but was hoping since it was a special occasion, she would be even more certain to grant his wish. He was shocked and horrified when he saw blood in the snow and smelled dear old Dog all over the house. He saw blood on Rose's bed. He knew what it meant and who had done this.

James followed the trail of blood that lead from the house and came upon the mangled remains of his lover. She looked like a pile a raw meat, not even human, she had been savaged so badly. It looked like part of her had been eaten. He knew it was her because of her hair and the remaining shreds of her dress. There was more blood leading away and James went after it. Dog wanted to be found and they came upon one another in the woods, snarling and spitting at each other.

"You killed Rose, you sick fuck!" James howled. "She was your friend!"

"You stole her away from me!" Dog snarled in return, his anger and resentment all too plain. His evil and twisted father had filled him with hate for the rich and privileged Howletts and it remained inside of him still. Dog saw Logan's running off with Rose as the ultimate betrayal.

"Your Dad killed my father! We had to run! This had nothing to do with you!"

"You killed my papa! I seen what ya done! I had nothing! You left me behind! You took Rose 'cause ya wanted her all fer yerself! She was mine and ya stole her away from me!" Dog's eyes and the tremble in his voice betrayed his pain. This had been no mere childhood fantasy for him, his love for Rose had been a real thing, the one bright light in the nightmare of his world. She had been stolen from him, and with her, his humanity. He stood tall and spread his hands, showing his large, wicked talons with an evil grin. Here now was the explanation for his misshapen hands, they had been concealing a secret. "Well, no more! See? You ain't the only one with claws! Come an' git me if ya dare, ya pussy!"

James was overcome with rage and charged forward, popping his claws for the first time since he had come here. They clashed violently and the blood went flying. It seemed they had both inherited more than just claws from dad's side of the family (_Too bad Thomas didn't have either ability, the poor sap!_ _Musta skipped a generation 're somethin'._), they both had the power to heal. Dog was bigger than him and stronger. He had the advantage of a mother with some strength of her own. That and a head full of blonde hair. They were not true brothers, only half and it seemed Dog had gotten the better deal.

Logan stood on the sidelines, an unseen ghost unable to change the events he was seeing. His head was down. It really was a shame this never got worked out. Thomas had killed his dad, not Dog. That hadn't been his fault. The death of Rose, well...This was the source of all their trouble, a girl. The first girl for them both.

The two combatants battled it out and James was getting his butt seriously kicked. He fell and Dog tackled him and squeezed his throat with no mercy. "No girls fer you, boy! Ever! You find 'em, I'm gonna kill 'em! That's it! Heh, heh. That's if ya git away from me! Don't look much like it right now!"

James found a reserve. He twisted and broke free. There was no more fight in him so he fled. He ran with his pursuer three steps behind. His tears for Rose were shed as he ran and froze to his face in white icy streaks. He was certain to join her, he could hear the snarl of Dog's labored breathing just behind him. He ran out of path quickly. This was the Great Falls, cliffs over a hundred feet high that overhung a huge roaring river. He jumped off without a thought, preferring this death to the claws of his adversary. He heard Dog howl in anger from the cliffs above him, he hadn't been nearly as brave. Dog stood and watched James fall, watched James as he died.


	3. Chapter 3

(Three)

Logan gasped as he woke abruptly back on the table at Jael's lair.

"Well, that certainly was interesting, but it tells me nothing of Kimble," Jael rumbled from close by. He had been amused by Logan's tale, he loved a good story, but a romp through Wolverine's twisted life was not his objective here.

"You asshole..." Wolverine wheezed. Tears streamed from his eyes. His hardened heart could not withstand an assault on this scale. He still saw Rose's face and the pain in Dog's eyes and it was more than he could bear.

"Shall I keep going, Master?" Tanya asked, keeping her voice low. Jael seemed irritated.

"Please."

"N-no!" Logan snarled in protest but it did him no good.

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James survived his fall down the waterfall. He fell and was hopelessly smashed and broken on the rocks and churning water but his body stubbornly refused to drown. He'd suck in water only to gather enough air for his healing factor to keep working. He traveled a great distance, leaving Dog and his past behind him. When he finally washed up on the shore and revived, he made a vow never to think on James again.

He took the name Logan (James had never been all that imaginative. The name of his true father seemed fitting enough) and became that man. He lived for many years in the wilderness, trapping and hunting. As the various wars passed through the land, he fought on whichever side he favored. It was easier then, he could live anonymously for long periods of time, never having to explain why he never grew older. He would just move on before anyone noticed.

He went to Japan and learned the ways of the Samurai. It did wonders for his temper and instilled in him a desire for control and orderliness. He discovered a great love for Oriental women, but never took one to wife. It was as if some part of him still remembered Dog's promise from long ago. He met many different kinds of men there, some of them spies and spooks. He pulled a few odd jobs with them and his career in Intelligence began.

He ended up back in Canada and did work for the government there against the Nazis in Germany, even participating in the landing in Normandy. He was being dropped off as part of secret Black Ops gig and boy, did he get the ride of his life. He completed his mission, but the horrors of the beach never left him.

When the late sixties rolled around, folks began to notice he wasn't everything he appeared to be. He looked damn good for his age and carried no scars from his various battles. They knew he had been injured from time to time, he had come back bloodied and barely alive more than once. Logan knew he should move on, but he loved the life. It cost him dearly.

His secret was soon discovered. For the first time, the word "mutant" was attached to his name. At this time, only a few known mutants existed. They had only just started showing up and were quite rare. He was drugged and taken by force to the Weapon X facility and the rest was history. The government agents were overjoyed by their find, he survived the Adamantium bonding process better than expected. His bone claws were a surprise but an extra bonus. All that was left was his conditioning.

The real Logan, the one who was reliving this disgusting horrible replay of his wasted life, looked down at his body and watched as his mind was erased. Rose, his days as a trapper and a free creature of the wild...all of it was taken. Jumbled up and twisted until he didn't know what was real and what was make believe. He was reduced to a howling savage and later took advantage of someone's moment of inattention to break free, butchering most of the men in the facility on his way out.

He escaped out in the wild, the facility was off in the Canadian mountains for secrecy, and lived like an animal for two winters, dreaming and shivering at night of the slaughter. In some ways, those two years were the best of his life. He had run free with no men to use him or hurt him. He was truly free, his days and nights his own to use as he pleased. He lived in a cave and dressed in the skins of his kills. He ran with the wolves at night and swam in the rivers by day, teaching himself how to fish with his claws and loving every moment of it.

He was eventually recaptured. The government sent out an operative to claim him. They wanted their investment back. It was made to look like an accident, his being discovered. Logan was lured back into the civilized world and he became a man again. Of course he was manipulated into working for the government once more. There he bumped into Dog again. By that time, both of their memories had been so badly fucked with by the government agencies they had worked for, they didn't know each other at all. Dog was now Victor Creed and James Howlett was Logan. They got lumped on the same work team of super powered humans and they ran many missions together, earning their code names there, Wolverine and Sabretooth. Their lack of memory didn't seem to affect them, they seemed to have a natural hatred for one another.

Sabretooth was a clever and talented operative, but he took dangerous risks. He went out of his way to make the missions more dangerous than they had to be, usually so he would have to kill to get them freed from capture or to make some extra money. He used drugs and drank heavily. Still, he was there watching Logan's back and had pulled Wolverine out of harm's way more than once, but it was mainly because he'd done something to up the ante and ruined the mission.

Creed was also the master of collateral damage. He'd discovered the magic of explosives and loved a rip roaring bloody fight. He cared not for the innocent bystanders, they meant nothing to him. He slaughtered them if they got in his way and gave them no rescue if he damaged their homes. He was violent to prisoners being interrogated and was untrustworthy around women. He became well known for his abuse of them, the younger the better. He thought nothing of rape and murder. This was Dog still lashing out at a world he hated and despised.

It came to a head one mission they had pulled in Panama. They got separated with some of their teammates. Logan found Creed and his buddies in a demolished monastery, damaging the locals. Four of the nuns had been savagely raped and he walked in on his old friend Sabretooth, doing the same thing to the priest. It was the most horrific thing he had ever seen. It was also more than Logan could stand. A huge fight ensued and they both had to be sedated and brought back home for more conditioning. Logan stayed with the Agency, Creed was dismissed for being too much of a risk.

Sabertooth later went AWOL and disappeared. Logan heard of him pulling secret service missions for the CIA and later running guns. Logan thought Creed was gone, but that was too much to ask for. Logan foolishly fell in love again. She was a lovely redheaded barmaid named Mary. The night after he proposed to her, she was murdered. It was his birthday, just as it had been before. One sniff told Wolverine the truth of it. Dog was keeping his promise even though neither one fully understood or remembered the why of it. Creed had acted on an urge he couldn't control, one no amount of conditioning was ever going to suppress. No trace of Sabretooth was ever found. He came, he killed and moved on.

It wasn't long after this that Logan came to work for Xavier.

This at last finally seemed to interest Jael. He had been watching from a distance, tied into the memory scan by Tanya's powerful mind. He saw now the inner workings of the Xavier Mansion and all the technology in it. Logan squirmed, but it did him no good. His brain spilled its collective guts and Jael gained more knowledge than any spy could ever have given him.

Time sped by Logan in a blur now, giving him snap shots of all of his battles. It hadn't seemed like much to him at first, but when it was collected all together, he was run awash with horror and pain. Beatings and shootings. That time he got electrocuted by some asshole and the time he got run through with a lance. It had been horrible. The only shining moment came when he flashed on Mariko, a Japanese woman he finally fell for when the X-men passed through that country by accident. As always, he fell like a rock and was totally smitten. This one Creed never found, but the end result was the same. She was the daughter of a local crime lord and his rival had her poisoned. She was dying in his arms, there would be no cure. She was in terrible agony and begged him to kill her, to let her die with honor instead of by the hand of her father's enemy. He had done so, popping his claws and granting her wish. He had loved her more than the world and it shattered him.

Logan was screaming as these thoughts and memories rushed by him in a blur and Tanya was screaming too, experiencing far more pain and horror than she was accustomed to. She howled as the door labeled Crazy John crashed open and she got a taste of that as well. That and the time he'd been set on fire by Creed two years earlier, one of their stupid spats getting out of hand. She screamed and screamed and then Logan woke up abruptly back in the cell.

Tanya had collapsed onto the floor, curled up and shivering, no longer conscious. Jael was grabbing onto her with his huge clawed hands, trembling himself. He'd been linked to her mentally and had a backseat view of her romp through Logan's mind. His joy at having Logan's secrets was short lived. He fared little better than his telepath had, he was shaking and almost in tears himself. "Tanya? Tanya!" he was shouting as he shook her, but she was in shock, her mind ripped apart from all the refuse that had been locked away in Logan's enormous mental garbage cans.

Logan couldn't help but chuckle softly. He was weak and tears leaked out of his eyes, but he still found it in him for some amusement. "Was...more ...than...she...could...handle...huh? Heh... whatta... surprise."

Jael turned to him with eyes filled with pain. "I had no idea."

"Heh...neither did I. Not...not fer all...of it...anyhow."

"How can you fight by Xavier's side, Logan? All your pain. You fight to protect the norms and all they've ever done was rape you, body and soul!"

"Not...not all of it came from them... The pain --- some...some of it...came from me. There's evil in me, too...just like it's there...in some of them. They ain't all bad," he gasped, thinking of Karen now. He could really use her touch right about now. He was barely hanging on here.

"No," Jael said, shaking his head. He cradled the body of his dazed telepath and stroked her face tenderly. She was whimpering and trembling, of no use to him now. "The norms took you...raped your body, your mind. All to make you a better, more efficient killer. That is a crime beyond all others."

"They got paid back...all of 'em," Logan whispered, remembering now the slaughter he'd created as he broken free of the Weapon X facility. Well over a hundred men died that day.

"It wasn't enough. They just found another way to use you. Your record as a spy and an assassin goes well beyond the day they...**violated**...you. They made you forget and used you anyways."

"Maybe...maybe. But keepin' the killin' goin' ain't gonna change nuthin'."

Jael shook his shaggy head again. "No. I'll kill them all. When the norms are all dead --"

"Then yer just gonna take their place," Logan interrupted. "Yer no better than them. You kill without a thought."

"Are you referring to my little trick I played on your Cajun teammate? It's not my fault he gets around. Heh, what's a few norms to me anyhow?" Jael said, trying to sound cocky but failing. Logan realized that was one little joke that had gotten out of hand, even for this guy. It wouldn't stop Logan from putting him down, no sir.

"Yer an animal. You come to our world...screwin' things up...how dare you!"

Jael eased the body of his stricken telepath from his lap and rose to approach his captive. He came closer to Wolverine and lay a gentle paw on his shoulder. "We're not the monsters people think we are, you and I. I am not without compassion. I had no idea your mind would be so...disturbed. Nor was I aware of your relationship with Sabretooth. I am familiar with him and his torturous ways. I see now why he is the way he is...not that that excuses his horrific tendencies in any way." Jael sighed and rubbed his lion's eyes with a weary, all too human paw. "You have my apologies."

"Fuck you. You'll be fergiven when I got yer head on a plate, you sick fuck!"

Jael just grunted a laugh. "I suppose that would be true. Trust me, if this Game wasn't so important to me, I would never have gone to these lengths. I am not by nature cruel. I will tell you this. Sabretooth's memories were recently restored by the all new, touchy feely, "we're all good guys now" Weapon X program that has been reinstated. That puts the two of you back on an even playing ground. Perhaps now would be a good time to end your petty war."

"What do you care?"

"Because I dislike watching my fellow mutants, especially two of your caliber, slugging it out against one another when the real enemy is all around us. When I have the power I seek, I will put a stop to it, you can count on that. Kimble will be returned to me."

"What do ya mean, 'returned.' He was never yours."

Jael just laughed. "Really? You know him that well, do you? Tell me, what did he see that made you tear him apart? You may as well tell me, Tanya will rip it out of you anyway after she's rested a bit."

"Fuck you!"

"It's all about sex with these Courtesans. Tell me, was it Crazy John?"

Logan snarled and tried to rise, but the chains and the powerful sedatives just made him sloppy and slow. Jael simply pushed him down. "Now, now there, my good friend. Your secret is safe with me. The bastard got what he deserved, truly. Too bad Kimble did not. My informant tells me he speaks in voices now. He's broken. What do you know of this?"

"If you know so much, find out yerself!"

"Don't worry, I will. Get some rest, Tanya will be ready for you again as soon as she's back on her feet," Jael said, rising. He slipped a tiny remote control out of his pocket and clicked it. The flashing light on Logan's restraining collar clicked on. Wolverine's body had been battling the sedative toxins Shakra had pumped him with. With the collar now on, his healing factor couldn't block them out, he moaned softly and blacked out.

---------------------------

Wolverine was dreaming again. He saw his life once more as the young James Howlett. It didn't bring him any joy. He had it tough living in a house full of secrets and bickering adults, but Victor had it far worse. He lived in the shack with their father, Thomas Logan. _He's just like me, Thomas is. So full of rage. He felt robbed by us rich Howletts and he passed that resentment onto Dog with his hatred._ Logan's memories sped along, spurred on by that invisible key and he was going through a lot of his many sufferings and losses. Startling, just how much he'd been through when it buzzed by his eyes all at once like this. The fire, the beatings, getting shot. With all this suffering, it was no wonder he had such a high tolerance for pain. There was so much of it and very little love there to balance it out. He found himself in a wash of self pity he didn't like. He chose the life of a spy and a warrior. It had been his choice, but damn...where was the reward? What did he really have to show for it?

More loud clicks of that huge key sounded inside his brain and he found himself going further ahead than he had before and the replay of their little trip to Cerise was run. He saw Kimble and felt all of that resentment come back. Kimble who used, Kimble who manipulated, Kimble who tried to rape Bobby and Holly. He choked back his rage, but it was difficult. _I hate you! _He found himself shouting to a ghostly pilot in his mind. _I hate you fer bein' so selfish! Love has ta be earned!_ _You take an' ya take and ya **took** from me!_

He watched as he met Kimble for the first time and felt that sense of automatic distrust that had sprung up then. He saw Kimble on the ship, the day Fallen had tried to kill them all. Kimble was blocking them out with safety grids, always trying to be in control. Kimble was fighting all the time, whining all the time and being a royal pain in the ass. Kimble who tried to fight him, Zander's words leaking out of his mouth even then. The file playback came and he saw Kimble's wretched life, the breaking of him. The resentment came back full swing when he saw Gambit suffer as the pilot had. He still believed Remy was under Kimble's influence somehow even today and it made him so angry!

Then came the troubles from the house. Poor, poor whiney Kimble, how it never ended. Kimble who tried to rape, who manipulated. Fucking rapist, child molesting bastard! Damn the rage was so strong! It was Crazy John all over again. Logan was filled with the red, red rage and wanted to punish Kimble all over again. Couldn't wait to get his hands around that scrawny white throat and cut the life right out of him. Then came the guilt, the horrible, terrible guilt. It wasn't Kimble who was supposed to be punished. No, it was Crazy John who had done that thing to him, not Kimble ...My God, what had he done?

His question was interrupted as he next flashed through the Xavier Mansion. He felt like a zombie tour guide as he mechanically gave a guided tour to the place, showing off all the technology in it and the elaborate security systems. He showed off the Danger Room, the Lab and the War Room with all of its scanners and spy machines. He saw the gym and discussed some of their training techniques. He showed off the hanger and the three Blackbirds that rested within.

Logan shuddered and gasped as he came suddenly awake. He was confused because he expected to be at the house, the dream had been so vivid and real.

"It is finished, my Lord," Tanya said softly.

_Cripes!_ _They went through my mind while I was sleepin'!_ Logan howled silently. All that came out of him was a low groan. Tears poured from his eyes, they were burning from the drugs and the pain that was ripping through his soul like a fire gone out of control. He was undone by all the horror and anger in his life and was still in a state of shock.

"Razel," Jael was saying from somewhere in the dim around him. "Return this one to Xavier's grounds. In and out."

"Like the wind, sir," Razel replied with a smile.

Logan was raised by unseen hands. He was still heavily sedated and couldn't move. He tried to get a sense of who was around him, maybe he would come to recognize them later if he ever got out of this. He could see the blur of a teleporter through his tear flooded eyes and was aware of another large person who now carried him. His courier was like a huge brown bear, large and well muscled, but clean and smelling of the forest. He was cradled in those massive arms like a baby, too fucked up to fight or try and get away. Soft fur tickled his nose and he was reminded of Henry. Henry who was always kind and gentle with him. He felt a sudden longing for home and the comfort of the good doctor. He was wrecked now, physically and emotionally. He'd been raped again, his mind violated.

Jael came close and spoke to him with gentle candor. "Before you leave us, Wolverine, I can't help but hope that you'll think about what you have around you. Life is very precious, you have more of it than most of us. Don't waste any opportunities that present themselves. Truly live, Logan. That is what we are here for after all.

"Oh, and worry not about Kimble. He is a powerful Channeler though I doubt he knows it. His being split only makes him that much more valuable. I look forward to completing his education and adding him to my collection. Take care."

There was a flash of light and Logan's muted senses couldn't mistake the smells of home. It was night time, the sky lit by a bright near full moon. He could tell by the shape of it, he'd been gone at least two days. They were out on the grass near the gates, not far from the road. He still wore the collar, but it couldn't shut the memories of this place. Home. It would have a whole new meaning for him now. He was filled with such gratitude to still be alive and back here again he began to weep, unable to stop himself. He was set carefully on the grass and his face became wet from the damp of it. He could hear the house alarms going off and knew it when he was left alone

There was a bright burst of light when the front door opened and then Henry was there beside him. Logan curled up, bawling now in spite of himself. He was overwhelmed and swamped with memories, so much pain. He was so glad to be home. He would never leave this place again, this was his place, where he needed to be. He clutched at Henry as he was lifted and cradled as he'd been by the big brown guy before. He felt the rumble in Henry's chest when he spoke but couldn't make out the words.

_Logan? Can you hear me?_ Charles spoke telepathically and Logan went wild, screaming. He wanted no more voices in his head, no more memories.

He was pinned and then helpless. Beast was quite strong and wasn't going to wait for the claws to come popping out. Wolverine was still wearing the restraining collar and the drugs made him easy for Henry to contain. His eyes were flooded with light as he was taken into the house and then he heard the familiar rush of the elevator for the lower level. He was placed on a bed in the Med Lab and then Karen was there beside him.

He snatched at her with a strangled cry of need and gripped her tightly and then she was holding him and soothing him as he continued to cry. She shushed him and rocked him, calming him as swift unseen hands broke the lock on the collar and he was free. He sobbed and let it all out, finally succumbing to sleep in her arms. He was home.


	4. Chapter 4

(Four)

Logan spent the night in the infirmary. He would tremble and shiver as he slept, moaning softly and at times, tears leaked from his eyes. Karen stayed with him, curling her body around his and laying his head against her chest so he could hear her heart beating. When he would shake and whimper in pain, she whispered to him softly and he would quiet, rubbing his nose against her to smell that she was real and not just another voice inside of his head.

Jean lay on the bed opposite them, keeping Karen company and watching with a telepathic eye over her beloved teammate. She and Logan may never have settled down with one another, but she loved him dearly and hoped he would pull through this. They had no idea what had happened to him, only that he'd obviously been kidnapped and suffered some kind of breakdown. She was grateful Karen was here to give him the comfort she could not. Jean smiled up at Karen now, watching as Karen teased a lock of Logan's hair in her fingers. "I'm glad you're here," she said, "I've never seen him break down like this. I've known him a long time, and I've never seen him cry. Not like this."

"Men are so silly, don't you think? They hold it all inside until it rips them apart. They've never understood the value of a good cry."

Jean laughed. "Too true, too true."

She stayed a while longer then left when Karen herself fell asleep.

Logan woke in the morning. The curtain screen had been pulled around the bed and it was warm and private here. He felt Karen near him and another tremble took him, this one not from fear of the unknown, but from fear of her love. She was here, all around him and unafraid. She had seen him at his worst and was still here, her hands in his hair and her breasts rising and falling gently against him as she slept. It had been a long time since he dared anyone to ever love him. So far, romance had been nothing more than a string of disappointments and heartbreaks for him. His dangerous life just didn't allow for success, really. He knew he should leave again and stay away long enough for her to just forget him, but he didn't want to. He felt a surge of selfishness, he wanted this, consequences be damned. He gripped her tightly and she stirred, laughing softly when she saw he was awake.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." It was all he would say.

She snuggled against him and felt his desire. It didn't scare her. "You wanna get out of here?" she asked, wrapping her legs around him and making him shiver again.

He didn't answer her but kissed her gently, with passion, laying her over onto her back. She held him tightly and he smelled her consent, her wish for this. He was a fool for doing this, he told himself. He had just been ripped apart, he wasn't himself. The excuses piled up quickly and were as swiftly discarded.

"Let's go," she whispered again and he laughed, letting her take him.

Henry watched unseen as Karen and Logan got up and walked out. He probably should stop them, he thought, but let them go. She had medicines far more powerful than any chemical in his arsenal. He clicked the intercom and gave a message to the Professor that Logan was awake and okay and that he'd left in the company of the good psychologist. Charles didn't comment but gave his approval and said he'd be alert to any disturbances in the house if Logan should break down again. It didn't happen.

-------------------------------

Logan leaned in the doorway of the open slider, his naked body damp from the sweat of his passion. Being a senior X-man had its privileges, he had a decent sized room with a balcony and a sliding glass door. He loved the scents of the night and often left this door open most of the year. It was dark both in the room and outside so he wasn't the least bit concerned about being seen.

They had stayed in here all day, making love and whispering softly to one another. He wouldn't venture out, he wasn't ready. She brought them food and coffee, happy that he had finally let all of his guards down to her. She was lightly dozing now, sprawled out across his bed, her naked skin gleaming in the dim.

He told her most of what had been done to him. What he saw. She had listened and promised to tell no one, not even the Professor. She would leave that up to him. He didn't tell her about Crazy John, however, he just couldn't. He just wasn't ready to go there or think about Kimble right now. He had enough guilt and pain to wallow through. There would be time enough for the rest later.

He did say he believed Jael had kidnapped and put an end to poor Joseph. Jael said he was dead and he had no reason to doubt it. Charles agreed and all searches for the Clansman were put to an end.

Wolverine closed his eyes and breathed in the smells of the Mansion around him. He could smell Karen all over him. It wasn't just the smell of her sex, although that was wonderful and intoxicating, but it was her perfume, her soaps, everything about her. He shuddered involuntarily as he realized he was treading on very serious ground here. He was in love and that was a dangerous thing. Women he loved had a way of dying horrible deaths, he didn't know if his heart could take another. What if Creed found out? What if he came here to kill her and Molly both?

A funny thing happened then. The words of the man who had done this terrible thing to him came back to him, offering him more comfort and support than he would dare to admit. "_Life is very precious, you have more of it than most of us. Don't waste any opportunities that present themselves. Truly live, Logan. That is what we are here for after all._"

He rubbed his face with his hands and left them there, smelling Karen on him again. _This was the real deal, Logan,_ he whispered to himself. This wasn't just making up for not having Jean, what he felt for her paled in comparison to this wonderful, crazy, runaway passion. This he could actually have if he allowed it. His desire for it was more powerful than he could ever have imagined. It made him think of Kimble which surprised him even more. Kimble's fear of losing another person he loved had almost been as a strong as his. It had been enough for him to try and destroy himself. The guilt washed over him again and he cried out softly.

"You okay?" Karen asked from his bed.

It was so strange for him to have a woman here at the house. It might even be the first time. "Yeah, darlin'. I'm fine."

"Then come back here and lay down with me. I want you next to me."

Logan couldn't control the shudder of pleasure her words sent right through him. Karen wanted him. She loved him even though she knew him for the man he was. No illusions here. He pulled himself away from the open door and came to her. He allowed her arms to wrap around him and give him the comfort he so desperately needed. He had been given something very precious here, all right. This is what Kimble had desired most and it had been ripped away from him. He had wronged Kimble badly with his lack of understanding and unforgiving nature. He resolved then to try and make this up. He would find Kimble and then he would find Remy. They would bring him home together. He would fix this, oh yes.

--------------------------------

Wolverine strolled into the lab, looking for Henry. He found the big blue doctor in his office, sitting at his computer with Seth. The young pilot was still wrapped in a blanket, he was having some trouble adjusting his temperature to the surroundings around him. He always felt cold and so covered up. Logan could see Seth was working on the computer, scanning Internet files.

"What's up, guys?" Logan asked softly, not wanting to startle them.

Henry looked up with a smile. "It's good to see you, my friend. Come out of hiding or just come up for air?"

Wolverine smiled. He and Karen had been granted some breathing room and had been hiding themselves away over the last few days. She was helping him heal in the best way possible and it showed on every inch of Logan's face. He grunted a laugh and said the reason why he had come down. "We have to find Gambit."

"And how do you purpose to do that? When he doesn't want to be found, he's quite slippery."

"You up for a challenge?" Wolverine asked Seth. "Heard you been catchin' up quick on our technology."

Seth just smiled at him. The young Siskan had come out into this strange new world with an insatiable new hunger. He demanded books with all the arrogance of a talented child and Henry gave them to him with a laugh, recognizing in Seth himself as a boy. He had wanted to learn it all at once, too. Henry was blessed to have gone to special school for the gifted, Seth wasn't so lucky. Beast did his best to organize Seth's education and was very pleased with his progress. Seth read for hours and hours, consuming it all with enthusiasm. He hardly slept, something it had taken Fallen a long time to get used to. This she hadn't really seen while he was in the system. She never realized how active he really was all the time.

Seth read his books and learned with lightening speed. He dove into this planet's Internet and learned its languages and paths to travel. He combined this new knowledge with his own of Dognan Internet type communications and was proving his value time and time again by improving the system in the Xavier complex.

On this third night out of the system, Fallen had taken him up to the widow's peak for his first sunrise. It had overwhelmed him and then he bawled uncontrollably, mourning the absence of his brother. Kimble's absence was a constant pain in his heart. All these new things he had wanted to see and discover with Kimble. Fallen was unable to console him and he moped for days, recovering only after he had drowned his sorrow in book after book on Shi'ar technology and Blackbird propulsion and maintenance.

He became Henry's most willing and apt pupil, hounding the poor doctor with question after question. Fallen purchased for him a powerful laptop computer and he carried it with him constantly. If he wasn't downstairs in Henry's lab, he was up in the Professor's huge library. He read to learn, but also read for pleasure. He especially loved books and stories on history, it helped him to understand this world and why people did what they did.

He had thought he had seen all the cruelty humans could muster against themselves from watching the Clan. He was sadly mistaken. Just a few days ago, this world had erupted in chaos when Al Queda terrorists had flown two planes into twin towers located not far from where he lived now. It was all over the news. At first people thought it was Jael and a good number of mutants were attacked and killed before Bin Laden finally came out and told the world this attack had been his. In this alternate universe, the terrorists had to clamor over one another to be heard.

The bombings affected almost everyone in the house, but especially one of the newer kids that had just come up from the school. His name was Neal Sharra, a plasma producer not unlike Leon. He was a native of India who's parents had brought him here to help control his powers. He was a devout Muslim and took great offense to what Bin Laden had done in the name of his religion. Seth watched in horror as Neal grew angry and lost control, melting part of the lower level until the Professor managed to talk him down and get him back under control. Neal left shortly afterwards to return to India for a short while. He wanted to go on a Muslim pilgrimage and try to find some answers for what happened.

They wouldn't come easy. Seth had been appalled by the damage, it was broadcast constantly on the news and he couldn't get away from it. He wept as the replay of the towers falling was played over and over again over the next several days. He saw the bodies being dug up and Fallen had to tear him away because he was sobbing so loudly. She kept him away from television after that and forced him to work on more important things, namely his coordination.

He was flexing his mind with ease, but still found great difficulty moving around. He walked very slowly and sometimes used a cane for balance. Often times, when they were in a hurry, Fallen still carried him piggyback. Some of it was for speed, but they both liked to be close like that. He loved to smell her hair and touch her skin, he wanted his hands on her all the time, even if he wasn't always so obvious about it.

Seth really struggled to orient himself in space and often bumped into things. He learned to stay away from the fragile glass antiques that adorned the house and always handled dishes with care. He was learning a lot about food and found many things he enjoyed, especially sweet things. He had discovered the joy of Coke and Twinkies as Kimble had.

One area of activity he did have some measure of success in was making love with Fallen. If he thought it was a trip and half in the Black Room, it was a trip around the world in real life with all of his senses in full gear. The first time left him breathless and quivering, gasping for air. Afterwards, Fallen had touched him gently and calmed him with soft words. He had cried, he couldn't help it. There was nothing that compared to this, nothing. There was no greater bliss, no higher form of communication he could have shared with his Mistress.

He wanted so much to have Kimble here, to talk to him about this, but his brother was gone. He didn't feel comfortable discussing it with anyone so he just kept it to himself. He practiced often with Fallen, not that he had to twist her arm around for it.

Seth didn't share Kimble's empathy, he did not see the shines. That's not to say he wasn't aware of the emotions of others. He might not feel the vibrations, but he still had a Courtesan's innate ability to read people by their body movements and tone of voice. He retained his intense dislike for violence and avoided angry people or even loud conversation, it frightened him.

Speaking of angry people, he had gotten used to Wolverine finally. He soon learned there was no hostile intent to be directed at him. Logan regarded him as some sort of strange child, an innocent. He always spoke softly around Seth, watching his tone of voice, and was never openly violent. He was patient and kind when Seth didn't understand something because he was so new to this world and the things in it.

Karen had mellowed Wolverine and that helped a lot. That and what had been done to him. Logan had a new found peace and serenity that made him cautious around the young pilot. He challenged Seth, giving him small assignments to research on the computer. After Jael's attack, Logan now had to revamp all of the security systems for the house. He didn't want that asshole -- his words, not Seth's -- coming in here and making a mess of things. Seth enjoyed the work and he and Logan got along well enough.

Logan had been the one to give him first paycheck. It had freaked him out because he still didn't think in terms of himself being real. Logan gave him the packet of money and he stared at it, bewildered. "What's this?"

Wolverine just grinned. "Yer first check, son. You earned every penny. Prob'ly deserve more considerin' all the help you've been givin' us. Maybe later when ya get more comfortable, you should ask Charlie for a raise."

Seth started to cry. He did this all the time and it infuriated him, but he couldn't help it. The emotions he felt were always so powerful and not so easy to control. This small thing was a token of acceptance Kimble had never received. Logan knew it and gave his head a gentle pat before quietly slipping away.

Seth had been accepted quickly and easily, he didn't suffer as Kimble had. Of course, he didn't get into trouble either. He wasn't flirtatious or obnoxious. He was Siskan but made passes at no one. Not a single dirty joke passed from his lips though he remembered many Kimble had told. He was very lovey towards Fallen, but didn't publically hang on her. He didn't want to risk the fall out Kimble had suffered by being publicly affectionate. He had no way to protect himself.

Seth had no powers other than his ability to feel some vibrations by touch. He had no control over this at all and it wasn't all the time, it was only if the emotion was strong or violent. He couldn't fly, he couldn't phase. He couldn't even take Ristle from Fallen's skin, he had to use the cubes. Knowing this, Seth had to carry the cubes wherever he went. He was researching their construction and had plans to make cube stations all over. He needed them for the lab, the library and the Dragon. He had the two cubes Fallen started off on, but was close to building two more. It wouldn't take him long.

Back in the Lab, Seth was curious about Logan's offer of a challenge. He had no idea how a computer could find their missing thief. "What did you have in mind?"

"The Cajun ain't been gone long, but he'll show. I want you set up a search that flags any new house robberies, particularly of any suspected drug dealers in this area. Scratch that, do the whole New England area. He might go, but he won't go far. Think you can handle that?"

Seth smiled. "Like Kimble always said, 'I just loves a challenge.' "

Logan snickered and walked out. He had no reason to doubt Seth would do as he requested. It hadn't taken long for it to get around Seth was just as good at sneaking around on computer systems as promised.

Henry watched as Logan walked out. He hadn't spoken much of what happened at Jael's, but had confirmed Henry's DNA findings with his own memories. In spite of the way it was done, Henry was relieved that Logan knew Sabretooth was his brother. He had no idea how Logan was going to take the news of his new family relation and was happy he didn't have to be the one to tell him. Logan said nothing to Molly, but smiled at her strangely once when he thought no one was looking. Henry had seen it and understood what it meant -- in this world, Wolverine was now no longer truly alone. Molly was his niece. It may not seem like much, but when you have nothing, sometimes that one small thing can really change your outlook on things.

---------------------

Seth stepped outside onto the grass and looked up at the stars. He had been searching for Remy as Logan requested, but he was also looking for Kimble. It disappointed him that after an exhausting but still continuing search, there still was no trace of either of them. No one had any idea where they had gone and time seemed like it was slipping away.

It was a warm summer night, now the middle of September. It was so beautiful out here. Seth had never envisioned a place so wonderful. His world had drastically changed in a very short period of time, sending him new surprises at every turn. All things considered, he was tolerating it better than he expected.

Fallen came out onto the grass from the house and embraced him. She was never one to leave him on his own for long, something he didn't mind one bit. "What are you doing?"

"Looking at the stars. Looking for Kimble."

She sighed softly and he sensed it again, her pity for him. He knew his intense love for his brother was something Fallen would never truly understand. She felt bad that he grieved, but she had already set it in her mind that Kimble was gone. She had moved on with her life and set Kimble aside. He was not forgotten, but Anya's words had struck home. The Kimble they knew was gone and Fallen had already accepted it. Not Seth, he refused. He would hunt Kimble down if it took the rest of his life. What he felt for his brother was a kind of love so vast, he wondered if anyone else had ever felt something so intensely real. Kimble's absence was a big black hole in side his soul, one that would never be filled by anyone else.

"Come inside now," Fallen said gently and kissed him. He felt her love and her desire for him.

"Take me to the flower field," he said. "I've never seen it at night."

That was their new favorite place. It was the field where the Clansmen had been buried. Fallen had taken him there a couple of days ago and he was overwhelmed when he saw all the pretty colors there. The reds and yellows and pinks were a endless rainbow he couldn't wait to dive into. He couldn't stop himself from taking off at a run and plowing through them. He wanted to see if their pretty colors would pour into his body if he touched them. Of course he tripped and fell, landing with a thud and sending a cloud of pretty petals into the air around him. He laughed and laughed, drunk on all the sensations pouring into his body. The colors were bright and the smell was like a heady perfume, making him dizzy. Fallen stood over him and laughed. He was a child to her and she loved every moment of his discovery.

Fallen tightened her grip on him now and lightly jumped into the air. She had flown him a couple of times and he liked it as long as she didn't go too fast. He closed his eyes and put his arms out, trying to envision what it would be like to really fly. He relaxed and it wasn't so scary, this movement through the air. How could it be with Fallen's arms so secure around him?

She took him to the flower field and to the large tree that was in the center of it. Everything looked different out here at night, but it was still lovely. The sky was clear and the moon almost full. They sat up against the tree and Fallen knew why he had wanted to come. He lay her down and kissed her, wanting to make love out here in the flowers at night. He would never have been so bold in the daytime, he was much too paranoid about being seen and being punished for it.

Too bad for him. Neither one of the two pilots was aware that they were not alone. Wolverine had gone out for a stroll and had climbed up into the tree so he could look out across the field and smell the night around him. Imagine his surprise when Fallen dropped down out of the sky with her precious cargo. Oh, well. Guess he was in for a little show. He was aware of Seth's fear of censure and wasn't about to break them up. He knew where Seth's insecurity came from and he felt a little bad about it. He himself approved of Seth and Fallen's relationship and of the young pilot Seth as well. What a good kid he was turning out to be. He was gentle and kind and more intelligent than he would ever be.

Logan watched as Seth carefully worked his mate, saw the tenderness and love there. It amazed him how well Seth was doing considering how klutzy he was around the house. He guessed some things were inherent to these Siskan 'grams and Seth was doing okay with it. More than okay, actually. He could sense Fallen was close to her climax, coaxed there from Seth's careful touch and soft whispers of love. Fallen cried out, arching her back and Logan couldn't help but shiver. He couldn't smell Seth at all, but Fallen was coming through loud and clear. _Oh, Karen. This is your lucky night, _he was thinking. He was going to have to work this off, definitely. His pants were much too tight now and he wanted desperately to adjust himself to relieve some of the strain but didn't want to risk giving himself away.

Seth gasped and shivered, finishing himself now that Fallen was done. He shook and shook and shook some more. It was like he would never stop and Logan had to suppress a giggle that desperately wanted out. Man, he'd never seen anyone cum as hard as that, or at least not anyone who expressed it so openly and without restraint. It would be ridiculous if he thought for a moment that Seth was faking it. He knew better. He might not be able to smell the boy, but he could hear him well enough. There was no mistaking the heavy breathing of a man who was having a damn good time.

"You okay?" Fallen asked softly.

"Uhhnn...Fallen..." It was all he could manage. Tears leaked out of his eyes, he just couldn't help it. This happened to him every time.

She laughed and petted him, holding him close. "You are so funny."

"Wh-what? 'Cause I shake like the whole world coming down?" he asked, using one of Kimble's favorite expressions.

"I've never had a man that shook like you do."

"Is that bad?" he asked, suddenly insecure.

"No, my love. It's good," she replied and kissed him again.

He chuckled, happy now and nuzzled her gently.

"Let's go in and have a nice cool bath, it's sweltering out here," Fallen suggested. It was late September, but still warm now. That and the mosquitoes were out with a vengeance. They didn't bother with Seth, but they found her easily enough.

"All right."

Fallen dressed and they flew off. Logan hopped down out of the tree and stretched, grateful to be free. He shook his body, flexing and cracking his back. It felt good to be out here. It felt good to be alive. It felt good to be in love.

_Oh, yeah. Karen. Heh heh heh_.

Logan took off for the house at a fast trot, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face.


	5. Chapter 5

(Five)

Wolverine walked into the seedy Boston bar, his eyes squinting from the smoke. He could hear a small crowd gathered at the back. He made his way there and waited patiently, watching the goings on with a tiny smile. It had taken almost three months, but finally Seth's efforts had borne fruit. Gambit had been found.

Seth had come to him early that morning, an excited gleam in his eye. He had located the thief from the clues Logan had given him. There had been a string of house robberies of suspected drug dealers in the Boston area. Jewels, money and paintings were taken. It corresponded with a rise in anonymous donations to the local orphanages, also given in cash and jewels, something unusual. Whomever it was, had left wrapped gift boxes of the valuables out on the steps. Of course, the drug dealers weren't about to report the losses, half that stuff was stolen to begin with anyway. Seth found reports of the robberies from asides on police reports when the dealers were arrested and from the SHIELD computers. Somebody was wondering if this was mutant related because of some explosive damage done to the safes -- explosive damage with no chemical residue.

Seth created a map triangulating all of these factors and gave it to Wolverine. Logan circled some areas where the robberies had taken place, it was close to where some low end bars were located and some cheesy hotels. It might be a good place to start looking. He had some photos of Remy he could use if he had to, those and a SHIELD badge that was actually current and active if anyone questioned why he was asking. Most of the senior X-men had them, a trade-off for some favors done. So long as they weren't abusive with them, the badges stayed current.

Two days before, Kennedy had brought Wolverine a present as well, a disc he had acquired from some of his buddies at SHIELD. It showed a break-in in a Friends of Humanity office in Baltimore. Normally, he could've cared less about these things except that it showed a clear view of Kyle Franks and his team pulling the job. Kimble had been included. It had been that same three months since they'd had any word of Kimble and the relief was overwhelming. At least it had been until he saw what the pilot had done on the disc. Kimble was in trouble, deep trouble. Now that Wolverine knew the pilot had resurfaced and where, it was more important than ever to go collect the wayward Cajun.

Logan was grateful for all of Seth's work, but didn't want to do the search for Remy on his own. He might need an extra set of hands if the thief was less than cooperative. Someone who could drive Remy's Jeep back if he had to shang-hi the boy and beat the crap out of him. He wasn't sure who to ask but was inspired when he saw Max out front on the steps, still playing with Gambit's Game Boy. Gambit had given him the tiny console since he enjoyed it so much.

Logan looked down at the teenaged boy and poked him with his foot. "You got a licence, son?"

"I got a learner's permit. I'm going for my road test next week," he offered with a hopeful smile.

"You drive a stick?"

"Sure."

"Good enough. Let's go for a ride."

Wolverine said nothing to anyone, but took off with Max on his own. His bike was gone so they took one of the team vehicles, an Explorer. Max turned out to be quite a capable driver. He had a knack for weaving in and out of traffic with ease and wasn't intimidated in the driver's seat at all. He had brought an image inducer along to hide his wings, but it still made him the same size. He was kind of scrawny and almost seemed too small behind the wheel.

"You ever think of working out, kid? Looks like ya could some size," Logan grunted with a laugh.

"I dunno. You think it would help me?"

"Looks like you could use all the help you could get. I could show you a few things in the gym."

Max beamed. "That would be great! You think you could show me how to ride a motorcycle, too? You look so cool on your bike, Mr. Wolverine, sir!"

His poor bike. He would lament the loss. Logan poked Max's scrawny looking ribs and teased, "Sure, but ya gotta bulk up first, son. You lay that bike down the way you are now, it's gonna squash you flat."

"I got my powers," Max said confidently with all the arrogance of youth. He was doing well in his telekinetic training classes.

"Powers only get ya so far. 'Sides, chicks dig a guy with muscles."

Max chuckled softly and kept driving. They made it into Boston without mishap and a few well pointed questions soon got them going. They spoke to a priest who said a strange man kept coming in late at night to pray. He always wore sunglasses in spite of the dark and left small bags of money. When he tried to approach the stranger, he would leave quickly without speaking a word.. His late night visitor dressed in dark clothing and wore a long duster trench coat. It made him easy to recognize. The priest had later seen him coming out of several bars in the morning, drunk and sometimes battered from fighting. The church was located in a rough part of town and the bars were close by. He gave the names of the bars to Logan and away they went.

Now, a few bars later, Wolverine finally caught up with their quarry. He had Max wait in the Explorer, he was much too young to get in here and the place was really rough. Max wasn't happy about it, but didn't complain too loudly. It had been a privilege just to be asked along.

Logan made his way to the back of the bar where the crowd was and stood with a smile. Gambit was putting on quite the little show.

Remy sat at a small table, his ruby eyes exposed and glassy from drink, a smug smile on his face. He was rumpled and dirty, his filthy fingers dressed in the fingerless gloves, a cigarette burning and ignored in one hand. His face was scruffy and tired. He sat opposite his opponent, a table full of cards and a large pile of money in between them.

"Yo' call, y'all," he drawled arrogantly.

His challenger lay his cards down. Two pair.

Remy grinned and lay his hand down. Royal flush.

"Dis jus' ain't yo' night, Kevin. C'est trop mauvais. P'etetre, you bes' try some other game."

"You cheated!" Kevin shouted, standing.

Remy lay slouched and still in his chair as he had been, unmoving except for the broadening of his smile. "Dis goin' get ugly now? It ain't Gambit's fault you cain't play cards worth a damn."

The man drew a gun.

Remy never moved, didn't even blink. "Quoi que. Go on den, shoot me. I could give a flyin' fuck," he said with complete sincerity.

Kevin's resolve wavered. This was not what he'd expected. "You ain't worth the trouble," he said and grabbed for the pile of money.

Gambit clicked his tongue and waved a finger back and forth in a negative gesture. "Non. Dis my money. Gambit won it fair 'n square. You want it, you kill me or you jus' walk out dat door, mon ami."

"You're crazy," Kevin sneered. "I've got the gun. You can't stop me."

Remy's eyes burned wickedly as he laughed a cheerless chuckle. "Oh Gambit,'e crazy all right."

Kevin grabbed at the money again.

The table exploded in chips and money as Remy kicked it viciously, throwing it up into the air and out of the way.

Kevin fired off two shots in his terror, but he never hit his mark, Remy was much too fast in spite of being so intoxicated. He had moved swiftly with his liquid feline grace and swooped around his prey, grabbing Kevin's wrist and snapping his arm with a quick, painful gesture.

Kevin howled and dropped his gun, gripping his arm in agony.

Remy chuckled mirthlessly and released him, watching Kevin scurry away without triumph. He bent down and slipped Kevin's gun into his pocket. Kevin had left it and he wasn't about to let any of these thugs take it. He started grabbing at the money on the floor. He missed some of it, his eyes still watchful on the crowd. "Anyone else, ey? Gambit's got plenty more where dat came from."

"I'm yer huckleberry," Wolverine teased, using Remy's favorite movie line.

Gambit looked up at him as the crowd parted. He snorted derisively, finding no humor in Logan's unexpected appearance, and went back to his money. He stood and jammed the rumpled bills carelessly into his pocket, dropping some of them as he swayed unsteadily. He was so drunk...so drunk. "What you doin' 'ere, eh? Slummin'?"

" 'S not every day you get to see your teammate damaging helpless norms like that. Real classy."

Gambit sniffed and wiped at his nose impatiently. He staggered past Logan, giving him a shove. "Go fuck y'self, man. 'Ave a good time fo' once."

Wolverine followed him, wrinkling his nose in surprise at Remy's stink. It had clearly been a few days since Remy saw the inside of a shower stall. This was something that sent alarm bells ringing in Logan's head. Remy was no fool, he knew he was handsome and kept himself well groomed, not wanting to be unprepared if a beautiful blonde or brunette opportunity should present itself. His clothes were always clean and in good condition. Logan had never seen him wear anything that was ripped or torn. He showered often and wore a nice aftershave, a common habit for a smoker. What Logan saw now was alarming. Gambit wasn't well.

They walked out onto the street, Remy first, Logan a couple of paces behind. Gambit staggered and weaved, then paused. He took a quick turn to the side and vomited out onto the side walk, holding himself away from the building with one arm.

Logan took a step back, careful of his boots. It was all booze, Remy hadn't eaten. He wondered if the Cajun was aware there was blood in it, but doubted it. Remy was beyond trashed. Logan snorted and crossed his arms impatiently. "Yup. That's some class all right."

Remy wiped his mouth on his sleeve and kept walking. "Go 'way. Leave dis boy 'lone."

"Kimble's alive."

"Nice try, Fur Boy. De Quitter's de one alive, Kimble's gone."

"She didn't take him down all the way, he's still alive. Kennedy brung us a disc with some video on it. Yer boy's alive... an' in trouble. Big trouble."

Remy turned and looked back at him, not daring to believe. "What kinda trouble?"

"Come on back to the house and see fer yerself."

"Non. Gambit's 'ad enough of dat place. He t'rough."

"We need yer help with Kimble, this is important."

"You screwed 'im all up an' now you wan' my 'elp? Biases-vous, abruti!" Remy turned away and kept walking. "Piss off!"

Logan followed him. "Yeah, I fucked up an' I know it. I'm sorry an' want ta make it up. I know how ya feel 'bout him. It ain't no crime. Come back and help him. Yer little brother needs you."

Gambit wasn't sure what startled him more, the apology or Logan's sudden concern for Kimble. He wasn't about to be fooled by either. "What you know 'bout it, eh? You don' know nuthin' 'bout me! None of you! Go on back de way you came, Gambit all done wit your bullshit!"

Wolverine grabbed him roughly and spun him, slamming him against the building. "What's wrong with you, huh? Since when did you turn into some kind of wuss! You ain't no quitter!"

Remy gripped Logan's wrists, uselessly trying to break free. "Lemmie go!"

"I told ya yer brother needs ya, an' I meant it. He's found a whole new world a' hurt an' as per usual it's up ta us ta come dig him out. He ain't comin' down without ya so yer comin' if ya want to or not. Be a whole lot easier if you were helpin' us."

Remy considered his options. He could sizzle his teammate and get out of this or just go along. He didn't think for a moment that Kimble was okay, the friend he knew would never have tried to hurt anyone. Logan had been burned, the building destroyed. The Lover was gone.

Logan could see Remy wasn't buying it. He leaned in close, braving Remy's stink to make his point. "Kyle brung Kimble outta that burnin' buildin', Rogue said so. Don't ask me how, that turd wasn't ever worth shit, but he got him out. More'n that, Kimble's alive. I saw him on the disc. I wouldn't fuck ya like that an' you know it."

"It wasn't Kimble, not for real. It's somebody else, one of de other ones. Dat's what you saw."

"No, it was Kimble. Kimble for real. Anya said if we got him, you could fix it."

"Anya say lots of t'ings, don' make dem true!" Remy blurted out, his pain coming out as a sharp tremble to his voice. It had gotten away from his control. He was so tired...

"What are ya talkin' about? Everything she said would happen, did." Gambit tried to wrench himself away with an angry snarl but Logan just slammed him back again. "What's yer problem?"

Gambit glared at him with a face unable to hide its torment.

Logan saw it and sighed, shaking his head. "Did it ever occur ta you that Rogue ain't the one, huh? The two of you have been dukin' it out fer a while now, maybe it's time you got the message."

"Dere ain't no one else," Remy said softly.

"No, that's you bein' stubborn. There's a great big school there full of girls. You ever once think of broadening your horizons a bit? I understand you love Rogue. I know it hurts, I do. Every guy has been where you are, includin' me. Rogue's got a head full of trouble. She can't be touched and it just plays with her mind, she makes bad judgement calls. It ain't her fault and it ain't yer fault either. You can't take it personal, you've tried yer best with her and it didn't work out. Yer supposed to move on. You gotta let it go."

Gambit tried to pull away, not wanting to hear it, but Logan wouldn't let him go.

"Let it go, Cajun. Let it go an' come help me. We found Kimble and he needs you. Don't forsake him 'cause of her. I know we can do this, we can save Kimble just like Anya said."

"No horse shit?" Gambit asked, his voiced cracked and weary. He was wasted.

"No horse shit, Remy. Let's go get yer boy."

Wolverine released him and watched as Gambit dusted himself off. It was a wasted effort. He was trashed even before this. Remy nodded and staggered over to his Jeep which was parked close by. He started to get into the driver's seat, but Logan shook his head. "Nice try, Gumbo. You ain't in no condition ta drive. Move it over."

Remy scrambled over and dumped himself into the passenger seat, leaning his head against the window. He belched softly with a groan and rubbed a fist against his belly, feeling a deep rooted pain in there. It was warm now in the Jeep and he closed his eyes, wanting now just to sleep this off. He felt horrible. He had that terrible aching pain in his guts and a rip roaring headache. He hadn't slept in two days and it had caught up with him with a vengeance. He was out like a light in less than a minute.

Logan didn't notice. He was sniffing and looking around inside the tiny vehicle. The Jeep was a mess, it was clear Remy had been living in it for the two months he'd been gone. There were used food wrappers and empty bottles of whiskey all over. He reached in back to grab a blanket and as he rummaged, smelled something that made him growl softly. He looked back at Gambit, but Remy had already passed out. Logan reached back again and picked up a black velvet bag. It reeked of heroin. He opened it and his eyes widened in surprise. A collection of fine gem stones tumbled out into his hand. No drugs here, bub. Only about a million dollar's worth of fine jewelry and Gambit's Jeep hadn't even been locked. He hadn't even cared. "Jesus, Remy..."

He replaced the bag, figuring Remy had earned them fair and square, and grabbed the blanket he'd been looking for. He tossed it over Gambit who had started to snore. The kid must be exhausted, he was normally a very quiet sleeper. Logan pulled out the small two way radio from his pocket and let Max know their mission had been accomplished.

He waited until he saw the Explorer come up behind him and then pulled away from the curb. He had thought to warn the kid not to do anything that would get him pulled over, Max didn't have an official license after all, but the kid seemed to be doing fine so Logan let it go. They drove off together, the Jeep in front and the Explorer behind, all the while Logan's mind on the disc Kennedy had brought. He had found Gambit, he just hoped it wasn't too late to find Kimble and bring him home. Kimble was in trouble deep and Wolverine wasn't all that convinced they were going to be able to get him out of it this time.

---------------------------------------

Five hours or so later, Remy sat on Henry's examining table, his head hanging low. Henry had given him something to help with the hangover, but he still felt terrible. His head was pounding and he had an invisible knife stabbing him in the guts.

The last two months or so that he had been gone seemed like a blur to him. The first thing he had done was get rip roaring drunk. He found a couple of loose girls and had himself a nice little "fuck you, Rogue" party. Things were going pretty well until he got a little too brave. As he worked the girls, their shines came on him as Rogue's had, whispering nice things about what a great lay he was. His ego got away from him and made him reckless. He decided to reach out with that power more than he ever had before.

The result was somewhat traumatic for him. Oh, sure, he got quite the rush. He could feel their arousal as well as his own and it was intoxicating. He was having a blast, enjoying himself immensely. The rude and frightening shock came when he began actually making love. He felt the heat of the woman below him as always, but then was blasted with the new sensation of feeling his own body slipping and sliding inside of her as well. The sense of duality, of fucking and being fucked at the same time, was more than he could handle. He climaxed violently and the two women cried out with him, struck numb from his backwash. Their climaxes crashed in on his own and he was tumbling down into blackness. He woke a few minutes later, shivering and shaking. The women had fled, terrified by his strange reaction and the way he had made them feel. Of course they took off with his wallet as well, the bitches.

Gambit, ever the optimist, figured it had been a one time mistake. He would just never try that again, case closed. He was sadly mistaken. He picked up another girl the next night and had the same result even though he'd made no effort to use Kimble's gift. The duality clicked on by itself and he was quickly overcome. He tried to control his climax, killing his rush and the pleasure of it. It was enough to keep him from blacking out, but things got very fuzzy, enough to spook him badly. It seemed the door was now open wide with no way for him to close it. He grew angry and the girl fled, uncertain of what had happened.

Gambit let her go. He was terrified and cursed Kimble. What now? Was he never supposed to have sex again without freaking out? If he allowed the pleasure to take him, he would pass out. He would lose time and be vulnerable. It occurred to him that this loss of control could prove fatal. He could be murdered by a whore looking for more than just his wallet. What if he lost control of more than just his body? What if it was his power next time and he exploded the room around him? He was filled with horror at the thought. If he held back to prevent all that, where was the fun, the payoff? The whole point of fucking was to cum, damnit!

He fell into a deep depression and drank himself silly, only sobering up to pull a few jobs simply to amuse himself. He had taken more than enough money for a while (he wasn't so stupid as to keep all of it in his wallet for whores to steal), but wanted the work to keep sane. He was also done as an X-man as far as he was concerned and wanted to stay sharp. He didn't want his thieving skills to slip away.

He made his money and spent most of whatever he didn't give away to charity on booze. The drinking did little to lift his spirits. He hadn't realized it, but relocating into one of the seediest parts of Boston hadn't been the best idea. Surrounded by corruption and violence, all of that suffering was wearing on his poor tattered mind. He didn't have the proper empathic shields to keep all of that misery out. He had simply chosen the area that felt most like home – in his mind anyhow, believing himself to belong amongst the poor and down trodden – and then was left to wonder why he felt so down. He assumed it was his own guilt at having failed Kimble and losing Rogue. While both were valid reasons, neither one alone was enough to explain the deep melancholy he had found himself in.

To pass the time, he found himself falling back on old habits, buying uppers and getting a little crazy. He was not a serious drug user, but when he crashed like this, found some solace in chemicals. It carried him for a few days and he pulled some good jobs. He left the money to charity as usual, some things with him would never change. As the time passed, he grew more and more lonely. There were women all around him but he didn't dare touch any of them. It only drove him deeper into depression, one he still hadn't recovered from.

Back in the Med Bay, Gambit groaned and lay down, curling up into a ball. As soon as they got back to the house, Wolverine hauled his ass right down here. He said something to Henry about checking out Remy's stomach and walked off. Gambit knew he hadn't gone far, he could hear Logan's voice out in the hallway speaking with the Professor.

Henry walked in and saw him curled up on the table. He covered him up with a blanket and patted his shoulder. "You've been very bad, my friend."

Remy just groaned.

"I suppose if I told you I wanted to do an upper GI you wouldn't let me."

Remy groaned again and covered his face.

"While you consider that as an option, I have these small tips for you. No smoking."

Gambit cracked open an eye, shuddered and closed it again. It wasn't an agreement.

"No drinking either, not for a while. I won't even discuss the other chemicals I found floating around in your blood sample. Let's just say I hope we've seen an end to that. Looks like you're well on your way to an ulcer, my friend. You are much too young for this," he scolded gently and patted him again. "Try to sleep. I've got some medications for you to start, but they can wait until morning."

"De bed too far away...jus' leave me 'ere."

Henry sensed his sadness and pain. He chuckled softly and scooped him up like he weighed nothing. Remy couldn't help but laugh at being manhandled so easily, something Beast had been counting on. That was better. He carried him over to a nice warm bed and covered him up, spreading the blankets over him with big blue hands. He noted how Remy turned towards his touch even though he was already falling asleep. This man who was really a boy was in pain, more so than just his physical injuries. He stroked Remy's hair back motherly for a moment, making mental notes to have the Professor come in and speak the thief when he woke. Remy shouldn't be allowed to leave again, not when he was clearly this fragile. When Gambit finally settled down into a deep sleep, Beast withdrew, pulling the curtain around the bed and letting him rest.

Gambit awoke a few hours later, drenched in sweat from an awful nightmare, his chest locked up tight and a dry choked wheeze coming from his lips. He couldn't get enough air, his uncooperative lungs refusing to open. He was shuddering as he lay, praying for the spell to pass but feeling the beginnings ofthe inevitablecoughing fit that had to come next, the one that showed that he was in some sick way still alive.

Remy couldn't remember the dream, but it wasn't the first time that he'd had it, or the first time that he'd wakened in the throes of a full on panic attack. It had been a long time though. The waking was always the same, a vague recall that he had been trapped someplace very cold, someplace too familiar to even want to think about. He had been punished for a loss of control, that much he had remembered, but not the details of the crime. He'd been punished by freezing, a punishment that had spread to the inner core of his body, his lungs frozen and frostbitten, refusing to allow him the simple luxury of breathing.

_Dis jus' a dream, it isn't real_, Remy tried to console himself, to will his body back into submission. He was familiar enough with the scenario to at least try and shrug it off. He covered his mouth as he coughed, trying to lessen the noise of it, as he did his best to calm down.

He forced his eyes to open and saw where he was, back on familiar ground here in the Lab. He finally relaxed, relieved when he felt the lead weight of his constricted lungs release and the warmth of the room filled his chest. He could breathe now. It had just been another stupid nightmare, this wasn't the first time he'd awakened in such a high state of panic from a dream of freezing. It wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last, not if he knew himself.

There was a soft whirring noise and the Professor poked his head around the curtain. "You okay? You sound terrible."

"Absolument. Gambit's okay. He always is," Remy said in a hoarse dry whisper, giving the ritual response, and lay back. He wiped his chin, denying the flush that warmed his face. "Jus' a little bug I picked up in Boston is all."

"Well you're in the right place. Henry will see to it you're looked after."

Remy nodded and automatically reached beside him for his cigarettes, but then realized he wasn't in his room. He remembered Henry's admonition against smoking and groaned again. This was going to suck big time.

The Professor came further inside. "It's good to have you home."

"Nobody say anyt'ing 'bout Gambit bein' home. He come back fo' de Kimble. After dat, well... we see what we see."

"All right," Charles said, trying to hide his disappointment. "You left this behind."

Gambit looked up and squinted when he saw his switchblade.

"I was wondering if you still needed it."

Remy smiled sadly and shook his head, not wanting the Professor to worry. He lied smoothly, saying, "Non. You keep it. Gambit all done wit dat."

The Professor nodded, seeing the lie but choosing not to acknowledge it. He'd come to know Remy pretty well, more than the thief ever could have imagined. Well enough to know that Gambit's habit of speaking of himself in the third person was no fluke. It betrayed that small part of him that loathed himself and wanted only to distance itself. It was a disassociative trait that revealed just how smashed Remy had been from his turbulent life. An abandoned orphan, a mutant, a teenager who had made a terrible mistake. A man who felt too much, something that was made worse somehow from whatever Kimble had done to him. A man walking a real fine line, one who would have to be watched. Remy's third person habit was diminishing over time, a sign of his recovery. When he'd first come here, the words 'me, myself, and I' never passed his lips. It was always "Gambit, Gambit's and his". He didn't let go of the habit completely, showing there was still work to be done. The Professor had no doubt that Gambit's battle with his self loathing and suicidal tendencies was far from over. Perhaps Remy would agree to stay longer without an argument. "Good. Try and rest. Logan wants a meeting in a short while. You need to be there."

"All right. 'Ey, Chuck?"

"Yes?" the Professor replied with mock disdain. He hated the nickname and Logan and Remy were the only ones who could get away with calling him that.

"T'anks for tryin' ta 'elp me. Merci."

"I hope you won't let it go to waste."

Remy watched as the Professor left and then closed his eyes. It was tough being back here, but not as bad as it had been out there. He had spent a lot of time trying to blot out his misery, it didn't succeed. Now all he had to show for it was a pain in his guts that wouldn't quit and a headache. He had to get his shit together, at least for a little while. He would help Kimble and then try and move on. Maybe Kimble could help him out with his new little problem. He hoped so. This self pity crap was a big waste of his time and not really his style.

"Kimble, you stupid little shit," he called out softly, affection softening the harshness of his words. "Hope you ain't gonna keep makin' dis boy work so 'ard. 'E ain't so spry as 'e useta be. Don' know 'ow much more 'e can take," he complained gently and relaxed, falling asleep again.


	6. Chapter 6

(Six)

It was late afternoon when Scott called Seth and Fallen on the intercom of the Lucky Dragon. "Hey, guys. Logan's back and he's got Remy. The Professor wants to see all of you in the War Room. Kimble's been found."

Fallen rose excitedly. She grabbed Seth's power cubes and laughed as Seth climbed up on her back. It was still easier to transport him piggyback and it was a game to them. He laughed all the way down as they took the tram (Seth had gotten quite used to the tram now and loved riding in it) and walked down the hall and into the War Room. She set him down carefully in one of the soft, cushioned chairs and placed the power cubes in his lap. She looked around her and saw a small gathering of X-men. Everyone was here from the Blue squad.

She was startled to see Gambit leaning against the back wall. He'd been gone for almost three months and she had no idea that he'd been recovered. He looked terrible, thin and drawn. He had cleaned up, but it did little to mask the punishment he had done to himself while he was gone. Fallen smiled at him, hoping to make him smile and feel better.

He saw it and returned it but then cocked his head in surprise when he saw Seth. His smile grew wider, there was so much of Kimble in Seth's face and it warmed him to see it. Gambit had gotten out of bed just a couple of hours ago and hadn't stopped since. Logan wanted him to help with preparing for this meeting, Gambit had no idea Seth was out and no one had thought to tell him. He walked over and held out his hand to the young pilot. "Bonjour. Long time, no see, mon ami."

Seth smiled warmly and took Gambit's hand in both of his. In an act of impulse he stood and fully embraced the thief with enthusiasm, just like a child. Gambit squeezed him back without hesitation and Seth was happy to feel a low vibration of genuine caring there that leaked out his way. He was a bit surprised to feel it, he had felt them in the system with Kimble, but the one he felt from Remy now was the strongest of all, as if there were no barriers in between them. It surprised him that it should be so vibrant and powerful. Remy's vibration came into him like a breath of warm air and he couldn't help but smile, it made him feel so happy. "I'm glad you're here."

Remy didn't appear to notice that Seth had felt anything beyond the physical contact, he simply smiled and said, "We gonna get your brother, dat's a promise."

"I don't doubt it."

The Professor cleared his throat and everyone went back to their places. "I called you here because we've had some news. Kimble is alive, which is good. But I'm afraid he's gotten himself into some trouble."

He rolled over to a computer and put a disc into one of the drives. The disc started up automatically and was a recording from a video surveillance camera. The screen was divided into four squares, each from a different perspective. It was black and white and grainy and showed the interior of an office. At first it was empty, but then they could see a group of people entering through the window. Fallen could see them clearly once they spread out. Kimble, Leon, Michael and Kyle.

Fallen was shocked by Kimble's appearance. He was in his pilot skin, but fully dressed in a Kings' black uniform. He was covered in various leather straps with pouches. His hair was loose and free about his shoulders, with two small braids in the front to keep it from his eyes. It changed his look, making him seem smaller and more feminine. But what shocked Fallen the most were the two very large caliber pistols he held in his hands. He gripped them both with casual ease as he covered the door to the office, he had taken a seat on a desk that faced the doorway. He was still and quiet, unusual for him. It wasn't because he was afraid or just being careful, he just didn't give a shit about what was going down or what could happen. She couldn't explain how she knew it, she just did by looking at him and his body posture.

She wasn't the only one. Gambit cursed softly and shook his head. He hadn't seen the contents of this disc until now. Logan had told him about it, but not what was in it. Probably didn't want his head ripped off. Remy couldn't hide the surge of anger that made him scowl and squint his eyes.

_Easy, Remy, _the Professor sent out.

Gambit just ignored him and kept his furious eyes on the screen.

"Who's that with him?" Fallen asked.

"Kyle Franks," Logan answered in his low growl. "He useta hang with us, but couldn't deal with the idea that humans and mutants could live together. It was a long time ago."

One the screen, Michael and Leon began setting charges. They were going to destroy the room they were in.

"Where are they?" Rogue wanted to know.

"Friends of Humanity office in Baltimore," Logan replied.

Kimble was bored. He began to flip and twirl his guns.

"Who does he think he is? Jessie James?" Bobby joked without humor.

Kimble continued to play. His movements were swift and skillful. He didn't smile or laugh or give any sign he was enjoying what he was doing and it reminded Logan of Zander when he was sparring with Valentin. So cold, so empty of everything. He gave a quick snap of his hands and dropped both clips from his guns. He reloaded telekinetically, taking two more clips from his belt. He did it so fast, they almost missed it. "Sweet Jesus..." Logan muttered.

"Hey, Lakotashay! Quit foolin' around and watch the fuckin' door!" Leon ordered.

"What did he say?" Fallen asked, startled to hear the Siskan word. "That was Siskan."

"What does it mean?" the Professor asked.

"It means filthy or dirty," Seth replied, his voice very quiet.

"Non. Worse dan dat. It more like shit or puke, de nastiest t'ing you can t'ink of, comprenez?" Gambit snapped bitterly. "Untouchable. De worse' kind of filth. Siskan a subtle language, like de Japanese. Dis is how Kimble mean it."

"Why would Kimble call himself that?" Bobby asked, confused.

" 'Cause it ain't really Kimble," Remy answered, looking not at Bobby who had asked the question, but at Logan. He was daring Wolverine to challenge his answer. The other man met his gaze and their eyes locked in silent battle. For the first time Remy could remember, Logan actually backed down and turned away to watch the screen. Before Bobby could express his confusion at Remy's strange reply, Wolverine clicked the mouse and the square that was centered on Kimble was enlarged to show what was going to happen next.

Back on the video, Kimble had finished with his game. He raised his guns and was standing up slowly, his eyes locked on the door -- they'd been discovered and he knew it. He threw up a rippling telekinetic shield for the others, but not for himself. "Don't makes me shoots ya, old man," he warned through gritted teeth. It wasn't clear who he was speaking to, the other was just out of range of the camera.

Fallen cocked her head. Kimble's voice didn't sound right. It was high as if he were afraid, but his body spoke only of calm resolve. She still didn't understand that Kimble wasn't really there in any way that mattered.

"Get out!" a security guard challenged as he finally entered the room, his own gun raised. "You got one second, ya stinkin' muties!"

"Fearless little bugger," Rogue commented wryly.

"Not fer long," Logan replied.

Kimble wouldn't lower his guns. The security guard began firing, he was a lousy shot and the bullets went all over. They hit Kimble's telekinetic barrier and ricocheted about, breaking things. Kimble didn't try to get out of the way, he simply shot the guard point blank in the head without ceremony as if it meant nothing at all. The man fell and lay twitching on the floor, growing gradually still as he died. Kimble sniffed with indifference at the corpse and sat back down on the desk, unfazed. It was as if he did this sort of thing all the time.

" 'Shay!" Kyle shouted, his shock and surprise obvious. "What did you do!"

"What the Master wants me ta do. Protectin' ya. Now shut up an' finish yer stupid little bombs. Cops'll be here soon." His voice was that of a monestrous demon child, ice cold and without emotion. It was the voice of the Quitter, cold and empty. The man watching the door might have looked like Kimble, but the Lover wasn't really there. This was the Quitter's little show. 'Shay turned and looked at her shoulder, noticing for the first time that she'd been shot.

Kyle put a hand on her shoulder, but Lakotashay shrugged him off rudely, not wanting to be touched. She snapped her fingers impatiently, getting Leon's attention. Leon tossed her a plasma ball and she took it with a grunt, absorbing it quickly. She shivered and rotated her arm, feeling the plasma heal the injury. She sniffed and lay her head back a little, high now. The rush wasn't as great because she had used most of the energy to heal, but she was still buzzed. She fiddled with her guns a little more, smiling a little as she watched the light reflect off of the highly polished barrels.

Kyle watched the pilot for a moment, then turned away shaking his head. He looked like a defeated man, someone without hope. It was clear he disapproved of what just happened but was powerless to stop it. He was trapped with no way out of the nightmare that Kimble had become.

'Shay sat quiet while they worked and for one brief moment, looked up at the security camera. She cocked her head, noticing it for the first time. She twitched and her whole expression changed. Her face became one of desperation and pleading. She slowly mouthed two words. _Help me!_

Logan freeze framed it. "There."

"There, what?" Scott asked, perplexed. He didn't know what Logan was getting at.

Remy did. He was silent, his eyes glued to the screen with wild understanding.

"Ya see it, Cajun?"

"Oui, patron. Gambit sees."

"What?" Scott repeated, irritated.

"Dose're Kimble's eyes," Remy replied. His voice trembled with hope. "Looks like he askin' fo' help're sumptin'."

"What are you talking about? Of course it's Kimble," Cyclops insisted, still not getting it.

"Kimble ain't de one doin' de killin'. Dat's 'Shay, de Quitter. She hopin' someone's gonna put a stop ta 'er permanently. She jus' wanna be dead, dat's all," Gambit tried to explain.

"What are you saying?"

"Kimble's all broken up inside. He t'ree people, jus' like Anya say. 'Shay be doin' de killin' an' Kim can't stop it."

"Oh, please!" Scott snorted. He'd read the report that Gambit and Logan had filed about Anya's predictions, but didn't believe a word of it. It was just too outrageous and of course convenient that Kimble would be split into these three people -- the Lover, the Quitter and the Punisher. It was a perfect excuse to remove the blame. It didn't sit well, especially after what he had just witnessed. He wasn't going to allow that mans' murder to go without blame. "You can't be serious. If that were so she would have just let the guard kill her. You said she wants to be dead."

"And 'ow was dat gonna 'appen, eh? She get shot, dat plasma boy dere jus' gonna fix 'er back up again. Dis ain't like you an' me, it ain't so easy to kill one of dese Siskans. Kimble almost die on de way here, he 'ad to bleed out almos' down to nuthin'. Dat ain't gonna be no option 'ere, not while 'e still someone dese guys can use. 'E get 'urt, someone come and 'eal 'im. Simple as dat. He's trapped, comprenez?"

Scott shook his head. "I'm not buying it. He took that guy down without a thought."

" 'Shay done dat, not Kimble."

"A split personality? How convenient. You're the one who's a fool."

"Why don't we just go get him and see what we're dealing with when we find him," Warren offered, trying to disrupt what looked like the beginnings of a fight. He wasn't siding with anyone in particular, he was just trying to keep this moving along.

"It seems like the best plan, ya?" Kurt added, putting in his own two cents worth.

"We might not get that chance. Not if he keeps killing like this," Scott countered. "One person or three, he's a killer and needs to be taken down before he hurts anyone else."

"He **_is_** t'ree people, Cyke," Remy insisted. "You seen de report we filed? We gave evidence!"

"What evidence? A psychic woman older than God? Professor! Kimble's running around killing people. I know it sucks, but you can't just explain it away like that!"

"I know you are a very literal person, Scott, and I appreciate it, but I fear Kimble truly is as damaged as they are suggesting. Logan himself heard Kimble speaking with more than one voice."

Scott turned to Karen, seeking a second opinion. "What do you think?"

She paused before speaking, her brow crinkling as she considered her answer. "I've never met Kimble, so I have nothing to compare this to. I must say that the change in his appearance is striking, as well as the change in his voice, but those things alone aren't enough to convince me one way or the other. I would have to interview him, and even then... I'm not sure I'm qualified to make that kind of diagnosis."

"It was Zander that came out and used the plasma ta burn me," Logan said. "I recognized his voice from when we were on the ship comin' here. 'Shay ain't the only one runnin' the show. Maybe Kimble's still in there, too."

"What did you say to 'im, Wolvie?" Remy shot out impatiently, his voice sharp. "What you say to 'im dat make de Quitter come out?"

Logan just glared at him and refused to answer. They sat for a moment, warring each other with their eyes again, saying nothing. Logan turned away and let the disc run again. Kyle and the others finished with the charges and they left. There was a moment's pause and then the office exploded. The camera was housed in a special protective box and transmitted to a remote location. It melted away into grey static and Logan shut it off.

"Kennedy got that from some friends at SHIELD," he growled. "Nobody b'sides the guard was killed but I think it's pretty obvious we got ourselves a problem here."

"What's wrong with Kimble?" Seth asked, looking up at Fallen, forlorn. "Why is he doing this? I still don't understand."

" 'Shay's got a hold of 'is mind, cher. Dat wasn't Kimble at all," Remy answered for her, keeping his voice gentle even though he was frustrated by having to repeat himself. He thought of Seth as a child, a more innocent version of Kimble himself. He would not raise his voice to this one. "Not de Kimble you know."

"That's not Kimble," Seth said in agreement, nodding slowly. "No way."

"Yes it is. He's become what they wanted him to be," Fallen insisted. She still wasn't buying into the idea of Kimble being split, not as dramatically as this. She had known him longer than anyone else here and wasn't going to let them blow this out of proportion. She believed he was having a breakdown of some kind, 'Shay's behavior made that clear, but a split personality? No, she had a more realistic explanation. She shook her head bitterly and said, "Siskans are programmed to please and will adapt to any user. What I don't understand is why people keep using him to kill. It wasn't what he was made for, but they do it anyway. He just called somebody Master. He's just doing what he was ordered to do. Look at him. He's given up. He's as good as dead himself. It's horrible."

"Bishop 'is Master now, but it look like Kyle's de one running de show wit Kimble fo' de moment. We find 'im, we find Kimble," Remy said, trying to hide just how much it galled him that 'Shay had spoken the word.

"I know Kyle Franks," Logan growled. "I know where he hangs out. Kimble ain't been at Cameron's Club, he's gotta be someplace close. Baltimore ain't that far from here. I'm gonna find Kimble and end this. We brung him back with us from the Clan, we're responsible fer what he does if it's 'Shay doin' it or not. I'm gonna find him an' end this, one way or another. I showed this ta all of you so you know what we're dealin' with. The plan is ta bring him back alive, if that don't work out, well, now you'll understand if I do what has ta be done."

"Wait a minute," Remy snapped. "You didn't say nothin' 'bout takin' Kimble down dead!"

"And I'm not. It's only if he don't come quiet. That's why yer here."

Gambit turned to the Professor, his eyes burning with indignant accusation. "An' you're goin' along wit dis?"

"Kimble must be stopped. I do not condone violence against him, but in light of what we've just seen, it may be necessary. He cannot be allowed to kill anyone else and if he puts us in a position where we have to chose between him and hostages, well, you know my answer."

"Fuck all of you!" Gambit shouted. "I don' b'lieve dis!"

"It ain't just us, Cajun," Logan interrupted. "SHIELD wants his ass, too. We get our hands on him first, maybe we can do a deal. Maybe they'll let us keep him here in a holding cell. We don't find him, they're gonna wipe him out just the same. You want yer boy alive, work with us on this. If not, he's toast, either by them or me. He ain't gonna be killin' nobody else, that's a fact."

Seth jumped in his chair and covered his ears. "Stop it! Stop talking about killing Kimble!" he wailed as tears poured down his face.

Fallen reached for him and was surprised when Gambit beat her there. Remy's hand was on his head and Seth was shivering, not from fear anymore but from the intense conviction that was coming from Gambit. The vibrations of anger were softened by a powerful love and a fierce desire to protect. Nothing was going to happen to Kimble because Gambit wasn't going to let it. Remy fixed him with his eyes, willing him to understand. "Nobody's gonna waste yo' brother, it ain't gonna 'appen. Not on my watch, mon petite fils, je promets."

"Fine, then it's settled. I'm leavin' fer Baltimore in an hour. Whoever's comin' along best be ready, I ain't waitin'. I think we're pretty much finished here," Logan grumbled irritably and went to retrieve the disc from the computer.

" 'Old up dere, buddy," Gambit snapped sharply, freezing Logan in his tracks.

Logan turned to him slowly, his eyes dark and serious. His hands clenched. "Yes?" he asked in a sickly sweet voice. He hadn't like Gambit's tone.

Gambit was angry that his question from before hadn't been answered. He wasn't about to let it go. "Dis t'ing far from over, mon ami. 'Shay picked 'er name, eh? Why she call 'erself dat? Kimble only got two truths. De firs' is dat 'e's real. De other is dat he's not a bad person. Lakotashay? Dat makes dat one easy ta figure out. What you 'cuze him of dis time, asshole? What's so bad you make Kimble break like dat!"

"Why are ya so sure it was me? That boy ain't been right fer some time now!"

"Boy, you must be t'inkin' Gambit's really dumb. 'Course it was you, he don' really hate nobody else. What's your secret! What did 'e **See**!"

Logan turned and walked out, not wanting to continue this conversation any further.

" 'Ey!" Gambit barked, following him. "You answer de fuckin' question, homme!"

"Easy, Remy," the Professor said, rolling over. "Let me handle this."

The Professor followed Wolverine quickly. "Logan, wait. **We** don't feel responsible for what Kimble has done, **you** do. Why? Tell me what he saw in you, Logan."

Logan looked past him to Gambit who now stood in the doorway. "I'm responsible because what the Quitter's done, she done on account of me, jus' like Anya said. I fucked up an' I'm gonna set things to rights as much as I can. No one else dies. As fer what Kimble saw, I ain't discussin' that with nobody. That's 'tween him an me."

Wolverine took another pace, but cocked his head with a strange smile as he felt the Professor, one of the world's most powerful telepaths, begin probing around inside of his head. He'd been run through the wringer with Tanya, he wasn't about to let it happen again. He retaliated, not by showing the Professor what he wanted, but the aftermath. Crazy John lying in a pool of his own entrails. The Professor shuddered and looked away, horrified.

Logan just grinned. "Shoulda known better than ta be pokin' round inside a my head, Charlie. But yer right. I do feel responsible. That's why I'm gonna fix this one way or another b'fore he kills anyone else."


	7. Chapter 7

(Seven)

It was true Kimble wasn't the same. He'd gone through a powerful transformation over the past two months. He didn't change all at once, but changed he surely had. It began the night of the warehouse explosion.

Kyle had saved Kimble that night, snatching him away from death, or severe damage at the very least. He had reached out and thrown up a telekinetic shield, tossing the flare to one side. Too late. It was lit and the kerosine caught anyway. He barely had time to cover them both with a large telekinetic bubble before the world went up in fiery ball of smoke and debris. The heat blasted into Kyle and he screamed as his skin began to burn from the impossible heat. He used his remaining power to grab Kimble and fly them both out of the loading dock and into the water.

It was hard to see with all the smoke and debris flying around, but they made it. They were on fire, or at least the shield bubble around them was. The fumes had licked around it and caught fire. There was a sizzling pop and crackle as they sank into the ocean. Kyle released the shield and the water rushed in around them, cooling them instantly. It felt wonderful.

He kicked up and broke free of the water, gasping in big lungfulls of air. He pulled up Kimble, feeling his passenger fighting to break free.

"I don't think so, kid!" Kyle scolded, relief surging through him. Kimble couldn't struggle if he was dead.

"Lemmie go! Lemmie go!" the pilot snarled at him in Lakotashay's high pitched voice. She was still in power, Kimble's surrender had seen to that.

"Not a chance."

Kyle jumped and leapt to the sky, dragging 'Shay's body up and dripping with him. He didn't head back to the warehouse, the was no point in it really with it burning down and all, but took off towards the bright lights of the city instead. He flew to the closest aerie he had and dumped the ruined Siskan down inside, tossing her on the bed. She was cold now and freezing from being wet and she shivered and sobbed, covering her face.

"Are you done now?" Kyle demanded, trying to sound more angry than he felt. The pilot had frightened him badly. "Stupid child!"

"Why didja stop us?"

Kyle wiped sea water from his face and began to undress. "Because you're too important."

"That's a load of shit an' you know it. We ain't this ShaRain. We ain't worthy!"

"It's not a load of shit," Kyle said, coming over to the bed. He didn't understand why Kimble was speaking like that little child again. She had spoken to him before certainly, but only for a moment and was gone. Maybe she was having some kind of stupid tantrum. Kyle was shivering and freezing now and wanted only to warm up. He yanked on the blankets and pulled Lakotashay towards him, but the pilot pushed him away.

"I hates you! Don' touch us!"

"Kimble, please. You're freezing and so am I."

"So? You shoulda just let us fuckin' die!" she complained, her voice full of anger and pain.

"Ain't gonna happen, Kimble. I made a vow to look after you and I mean to honor it."

"My name ain't Kimble. Don' calls us that no more."

"What?" Kyle asked, perplexed.

"You calls us Lakotashay or nuthin' else," the pilot said, rising. The Quitter stood up straight and the coldness seeped back into her eyes. "You won' lets us die? Fine! You ain't the first to stop us. Yer just like our father, thinkin' y'all know what's best fer us. What a crock of shit. All of it! There ain't nuthin' here fer us 'cept hurtin' an' hate. Well, maybe y'all think you kin break me down, swampin' me with yer stupid idears of great things what ain't even real, but yer wrong! We're a stupid Siskan courtesan. The only thing we wuz meant ta do wuz serve. Fine. I'll serve. But you ain't the one who owns us, we belongs ta Cameron. He wants some stupid ShaRain, fuckin' killer gangster? Fine! Kimble ain't up to it, Zander neither, sos ya got me. Lakotashay!"

Kyle looked up at the pilot, horrified. It was starting to sink in what was going on here. This one Cameron had fought so bitterly for was smashed, broken for real. This was no joke, no silly game Kimble was playing. This nightmare was only getting worse. "Kimble, wait --"

"**There ain't no Kimble here!**" Lakotashay shouted suddenly, throwing out a telekinetic burst so powerful, Kyle was flattened down onto the bed and unable to move. The whole building shook with it and items toppled over from the shelves around him. He was surprised at how powerful her ability was, Kimble had given no sign. Still, Kyle was the stronger of the two at the moment because of his training and tight control. He chose against resisting her, he didn't think putting up a fight here was going to help anything.

"Okay...Lakotashay..." Kyle wheezed and gasped as he was released.

Lakotashay backed off, her eyes angry and defiant. She moved away and went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. The sound of the shower came on.

Kyle swore and lay back on the bed, covering up. This night had been one long continuous nightmare. Half his team was dead, Kimble was mentally smashed, probably beyond repair. "Hope you're happy, Cam," he mumbled to himself. He had warned Cameron that he wasn't fit to be Kimble's handler and this only proved it.

-------------------------------------

The next evening, Kyle brought Lakotashay back with him to Cameron's penthouse. Kyle was stunned at the damage to the building, he had flown out with Kimble before Sabretooth's farewell blast and had no idea it had been this bad. The penthouse was in good shape, but that was about it. Cameron's Club and the upper floors had sustained heavy damage from the big fight. At least half of one whole floor was demolished throughout from Creed's bomb. Amazingly, the building was still structurally sound and there were people milling about. The bomb had blown itself out and there had been no fire. There were still some fire trucks and SHIELD security vehicles parked down below, no doubt trying to figure out what was going on. It looked as though at one point the building had been evacuated, but he saw that regular people were moving in and out now.

They landed on the patio for the penthouse and Kyle kept them going along through the upper floors. As he moved the sullen and silent pilot through the building, Kyle saw many of Cameron's people milling about, cleaning things up and documenting what had to be fixed. There were firemen and SHIELD agents up here, too. Some of them gave sideways looks at the odd looking pilot, but most of them knew this was a building occupied by mutants and nothing was said. That didn't mean the men were silent, Kyle heard whispers of over thirty of The Freedom Kings having been killed, slaughtered by Sabretooth and his gang. Michael wasn't one of them, thankfully. Kyle passed his teammate and smiled at him with relief. Michael shook his hand and went on his way without speaking. There was too much to be done.

Kyle found Cameron in his office, which had miraculously sustained no damage.

Cameron was relieved to see them. He came forward, his hands outstretched. "Oh, thank God! I was so worried, I'm glad you're all right. What happened? Leon and I barely got out of the warehouse alive."

Kyle shook his head and looked at 'Shay who stood quiet with her head down. "He's not all right. The X-men tried to take him. Wolverine was there, I found him sneaking around and locked him up. Somehow Kimble found him and they had some kind of fight. That rat bastard Logan said something bad to Kimble and now he's all messed up. He tried to kill himself and I stopped him. He says his name is Lakotashay and he won't stop talking like that little kid."

"Really?"

Kyle gave 'Shay a poke. "Say something."

She just glared at him.

"He tried to kill himself. That's why the warehouse exploded."

"Well, we can't be having that. Heroes don't kill themselves," Cameron replied in a strict fatherly tone. He locked eyes with the pilot, demanding a response.

"We ain't no hero," Lakotashay finally spoke. "We's jus' Siskan trash. Yer ShaRain is a lie."

Cameron noted the change in the pilot's voice. This one he hadn't heard from as much. When the pilot got into trouble, he mostly spoke to Kimble and that other one, Zander. He figured if this personality spoke so much like a child, perhaps she could be reasoned with like one. "What makes you say that? Heroes aren't perfect, you know. They must be trained, molded. Created. You can still be that ShaRain if you want it."

"Only thing I wants ta be is dead. Kyle stopped me once, he ain't gonna stops me the next time."

"Now you listen to me, son --"

"I ain't yer son!" 'Shay snarled at Cameron in her high pitched voice. It couldn't be mistaken for anything but an outraged female. "I'm Lakotashay! Ya don' owns me!"

He just grinned at her with a nasty smile. He was growing angry, but felt he had no choice but to play his last wild card. Joshua had warned him of the change in this pilot and advised him on how best to handle it. Joshua, too, had survived the assault on the place and was quick to come to Cameron with new visions upon his arrival. It wasn't really Cameron's style to do as Joshua had suggested, but he wanted... no, he needed this new acquisition under his complete control. "Of course I own you. You live under my roof. You are under my authority."

"Never!" 'Shay hissed, fisting her hands.

Cameron stood up tall and straight, ready to deal that card now. He shouted in a loud, commanding voice, "Get down on your knees, you ungrateful whelp! You were lost and I found you! I am your Master now! You will obey me!"

Lakotashay squealed and went down to her knees, hard. It was the first time Cameron had used the word Master directly and with such force. His loud voice and domineering manner had struck a chord deep inside, one she was unable to ignore. **Obey!** was the command given and she had responded automatically. **Submit!** was the order implied and it felt too right for her to resist. She cowered before him, holding her arms over her head defensively as though he would strike her. He had used the magic word --- **Master**. Kimble had been a slave in one form or another all of his life. He truly didn't know any other way to be. All of the personalities felt this. He'd been floating around for weeks now, essentially drifting in a terrible limbo until someone happened to come along and claim him. That man had just now spoken. The only one with the power to really argue about what was going on was Zander, but he was oddly silent, waiting to see what else Cameron had to say before he went along with this or not.

Kyle was stunned and momentarily speechless. He had never heard Cameron talk this way to anyone and didn't like how Lakotashay had immediately responded. It was too well practiced, too automatic. This was clearly nothing new to the pilot and Cameron had known it all along. Another thing Cameron had hidden from him. His anger surged. He started to speak but Cameron silenced him with a finger, he wasn't done with Lakotashay just yet.

"You listen up now, you listen good. You've been screwing around for the past two weeks. That's why Gail is dead. That was all your fault. You are responsible and so now you owe me. You will train! You will defend us against our enemies! You will do as you are told! Understand!"

"Fuck you!" 'Shay snarled. She willed a wall of spikes, but nothing happened. She snarled in frustration but was greeted only by a harsh, nasty chuckle from Zander.

"Nice try, darlin'. You ain't gots no power 'less I gives it to ya."

"No!" she protested, but squealed once more and twisted as something was disrupted from inside.

Zander had something to say and shoved her rudely aside. He gave Cameron his answer. "I kin shuts 'er down all day if I hafta. All she wants is ta be dead, but not me. Not me. You wants yer ShaRain? Fine. But we gots ta do it together. Kimble's gone so ya gots ta deal with her. I kin stops her from usin' our power ta kills us, but that's it. You gots ta help me. You do that an' I'll work with ya, I'll do whatever ya wants."

Kyle shook his head and covered his face. The rough gravel of the Punisher's voice was too much. He was no doctor, but even he could see that this was not Kimble screwing around. The voices were coming out one on top of the other, almost simultaneously. No human could speak like this. "Cameron, this guy's a mess. We have to get him out of here. He needs a hospital!"

"Shut up or get out."

Kyle startled and looked with surprise at the man he'd respected and obeyed unquestionably for the last ten years. Cameron was glaring at him, willing him to be silent. His boss clearly had a plan and wasn't about to let him interfere. Well, his boss was in for a surprise, too. He wasn't about to sit here and watch this freakshow go any further without a say. "Excuse me? This wasn't a dictatorship last I checked! Since when do you boss around your people and treat me like shit! I've done everything you ever asked of me whether I've agreed with it or not! No more! I'm not about to stand here and let you make a slave out of this boy!"

"This is no mere boy and must be handled in a different way! He's not even human! He's a machine, a hologram that was designed to serve! He must be controlled to gain his full potential!"

"But–!"

"I wants ta train!" Zander interrupted in his low rumble. He wanted this and wasn't about to let any of the others or Kyle get in his way. "I been tryin' but Kimble's been the one screwin' around! He's gone now! I wants this! I wants this!"

Kyle crossed his arms and looked down to the floor, defeated. This was madness. He was party to a murder. Kimble was gone.

"This is Zander speaking to me?" Cameron said to the pilot, maintaining his domineering posture and authoritative tone.

"That's right. I wants ta train. 'Shay ain't gots no power, I do. You wants the learnin' done, you ain't gonna git it done without me. We kin makes 'Shay do it, I kin move 'er along just like I done with Kim."

"Where are the others now?"

" 'Shay's here. We all sees what's goin' on. I wants ta train. I always did, but the others don' always listen ta me."

Cameron grinned, happy now. "Then stay and train."

"I cain't, least not all the time. I ain't strong enough ta stay out too long. All I kin do is shut the power off an' on. 'Shay's the strongest now cuz Wolverine made Kimble run. She's trouble. She wants us all dead. She'll do it, too, if she gits the chance. Kimble useta balance things out 'tween all of us, but he's gone now."

"Why is that? How did Wolverine make Kimble run?"

Zander grunted a wry, twisted laugh. "Called the Lover a rapist. Go figger. Kim didn't take it too good. He won't be comin' out no more."

"Why did he call Kimble a rapist?"

Zander shrugged. "Prob'ly cuz it's true, I reckon."

Kyle was finished now. Kimble had truly loved Gail, he had seen it with his own eyes. Kimble would never knowingly hurt anyone, Kyle believed this with all his heart. He couldn't believe Logan's cruelty. Well, scratch that. Wolverine was a rock hard bastard with a wicked temper. Maybe it wasn't so far from reality. Still, Kimble hadn't been able to withstand the mental assault. Kimble was his charge, his responsibility. He had done nothing over the past two weeks to bolster Kimble's self esteem. No, he had played the personalities just as Cameron was doing now. What a mistake. He had failed as both a mentor and a person. This was nothing more than a butchered re-enactment of his prior failure as a handler. Kimble had been gentle and kind, the one with a laugh so happy and full of life. Now he was gone.

Kyle started to walk out, but Cameron grabbed him. "Wait. I want to talk to you, to explain all of this. Just not here."

"Go fuck yourself!" He jerked away from his boss and stomped out, slamming the door.

"What's his problem?" Zander asked.

"He was quite partial to Kimble."

Zander just smiled wickedly. "Yeah, the Lover has that effect on people."

Cameron laughed uneasily, unsure if that was a joke or a statement. "Don't worry about Kyle. He's upset. Don't worry, I'll handle him. Now, back to business. You will train and do as I ask? I want you to learn the sword from Joshua, it will be done."

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Master," Zander replied with saccharine sweetness and a crooked smile. It let Cameron know that Zander's obedience was conditional. For the moment, their goals were the same and he was content to co-operate. That was subject to change.

Cameron was willing to take what he could get. "And you, Lakotashay?"

"Don' wanna train! Jus' kill us!" she demanded.

"No! You will obey me!" Cameron shouted.

'Shay recoiled and cowered on the floor. She was trembling and submissive. "Yes, Master!"

"There will be no more attempts to destroy yourself! You belong to me! You will do as I say, no questions!"

"Yes, Master!"

"Now, I don't trust you so I'm going to have you bunk with Leon for now. He will keep an eye on you. You will do as he says, understand?"

"Yes, Master."

Lakotashay was all done arguing. She understood that it was her role in life to be a possession, to be ordered. This is how it always was and always would be for as long as they were alive. She could feel Zander's will burning in the circle of light beside her. He wanted this. Her will was stronger, but he was the root of her power. She needed him. They were all three together in this.

Kimble was the only silent partner at the moment. He was balled up in his chains, buried under his wings and asleep with his back to the screen. He was all done with the world and would remain like this until he had the will to fight for control again. It would be a long time coming, the pain had banished him into the deepest recesses of his own mind. 'Shay couldn't fight both of them, but with Kimble down, maybe she could appease Zander enough to drop his guard long enough for her to find a way to destroy the body. She wouldn't be happy until she was back home with Father again.

-------------------------------------------

Cameron found Kyle at the bar nearest the penthouse exit. Cameron walked the pilot over to where a crew was working on a clean up project nearby and left her there, he wanted her where he could see her while he tried to work this out with Kyle. He knew to get what he wanted from the pilot, he would need Kyle on his side. Cameron sat next to the man who was more like a son to him than any other and patted his shoulder. "Hey, Kyle."

Kyle had been here while Cameron spoke with the pilot and was now quite drunk. He had knocked back a few drinks quickly, wanting only oblivion. He slurred at his boss, "You lied to me. Kept your secrets. You used me."

"I know and I'm sorry. I wouldn't have done it if it wasn't so important."

"You knew it was going happen, him breaking up all the way like that. You knew Kimble would leave."

"Joshua told me."

"That's so unfair. You tell me to take care of him but then you tell me nothing about him. Look at him, he's a mess! I hate you!" he spat and covered his eyes, turning away. He was much too drunk for this. He was horrified Kimble was gone and the frustration was more than he could bear. He had recruited many young people for Cameron over the years and most of them had been kids hardened by the streets or parental abuse. Kimble was one of the few people who had crossed his path that had a spark of true child like innocence about them. Kimble had trusted him and he had let the Siskan down.

Cameron continued with her persuasions. "I'm sorry, really. I understand you're angry. I know I deserve it. Please, set aside your anger and work with me on this. That kid is going to be more powerful than we can imagine. Joshua has seen it. Everything he told me about Kimble has happened. He will be a powerful weapon, just think of all the good he'll be able to do for us and for our cause. Kimble's going to be okay, you'll see. He just needs to be trained and molded into something good. He just needs some time to sort out what he wants."

"Kimble's dead. 'Shay killed him," Kyle snapped bitterly, his head down.

"You don't know that. Just give him some time."

"I hate that bitch."

"She'll be better now, you'll see. Just stay and work with me on this. I want Kim...'Shay... whoever he is now, to bunk with Leon. He shouldn't be left alone. Will you help me?"

"No. I'm on the first plane out of here."

"I know you cared for Kimble, we all did. Perhaps if you stay, he can persuaded to come out again," Cameron said, ever the master manipulator. He doubted it would happen, he just wanted to prey on Kyle's insecurities so he would stay.

Kyle shuddered and held back his raging emotions. He wanted to run, to just walk away from all of this. He had the financial resources to do it, it would be so easy. He looked across to where the pilot was working, seeing her exaggerated feminine movements and the posture of her body. He hated Lakotashay with a passion. He didn't know if he could do this, if he could work with her without wringing her neck. Still, maybe he could make up for his mistake, set things to rights.

"It's not safe to stay here," he said finally, his voice rough.

"Take Leon and Joshua and go to the Baltimore camp."

"Give me Michael. I want his protection, Joshua can't do shit."

"All right. The train stations will be watched, so is this building. Dress in black and fly by your own power. If you take Steven with you as well, he can cloak you."

Steven was a telepath, he also had a way of blanking out perceptions of those around him. He would be able to cover them easily. Kyle nodded. "I need a few minutes, I have to pack."

Cameron was happy now. "I'll see that the others are made ready as well. Take what time you need, but not too long. It will be light soon."


	8. Chapter 8

(Eight)

It was early morning when Kyle landed his group on the lawn of the Baltimore safehouse. The sun was just peeking up on the horizon. They were all exhausted from the flight and wanted nothing more than to just crash and sleep the rest of the day away.

This place wasn't a safehouse so much as a training camp that Cameron used for his people when he wanted to get out of the city. It was located outside of the city proper in a more rural area. This place was spread out over seventy acres, had several buildings and was disguised as a school for wayward teens. A large dorming house was centered around several small outbuildings that were training studios and a small farm. Cameron used this place to break in the toughest of his recruits, the unruly and the ones too powerful to stay in control. It was private and small disasters caused by any reckless kids could easily be covered up. Kyle clicked his tongue and they all walked up to the house. 'Shay was in front and sulking badly, Kyle had to keep shoving her along.

'Shay wasn't happy about this at all. She was all put out that Zander had made her look like an ass in front of Cameron. She'd had no idea until then that he was the one who actually controlled their power, she had thought all three of them had free access. This was something she was going to have to change and quickly. She wasn't about to sit back and lose face like that again. Maybe she could get Zander to fall back like Kimble had. It would be nice to have complete control. It would be so easy to die then, yes. She wanted to see her father again so badly she could taste it. Looks like she would have to wait, hopefully not for long.

They went inside and met the Headmaster here. He was a jovial man named Nate. He had been the Headmaster here for a long time and seemed thrilled to have some fresh blood in the place. He had seen it all and Cameron trusted him completely to clean up any messes that might arise. This place was mostly empty now, Cameron hadn't picked up as many new people that needed it. Nate showed them around and up to their quarters.

One of the first things 'Shay noticed was that this place was full of cats. They followed everyone around meowing happily and rubbing against their legs. She smiled when they purred loudly against her. She could see their bright tiny shines and feel their vibrations of love and welcome. It was unexpected and made some of her anger dissipate. Leon wasn't so happy. He despised cats and kept kicking them away with snarls until Kyle shushed him.

Nate brought them all to their rooms. Kyle told Leon he was bunking with Kim and they should both settle in and get some rest. Leon wasn't too thrilled when he first learned about his new roommate. No one had mentioned this pairing to him. He hadn't liked the soft spoken Lover and was fearful the pilot would make a move on him. He was startled by the change that had occurred seemingly overnight. Lakotashay entered the room, her small box of clothes in her arms. She said nothing, but tossed the box on the floor with a pout and then lay on her bed. She turned her back on him and stared at the wall in silence.

Leon was stunned. This he had not expected.

"You okay, Kim?"

"Don' call us that. Kim ain't here no more."

Leon couldn't be more pleased. He had been told Kimble had suffered some kind of breakdown, but not the specifics. He knew Kimble was split but hadn't seen much of it for himself at the Club. He wasn't crazy about this new voice, it didn't fit the body, but he was hopeful that this personality wasn't so icky sweet like the other.

"You want to play a game?"

'Shay didn't move, but asked, "What kinda game?"

"You do what I say. If I like it, I'll give you some plasma."

She rolled over to look at him. "What do ya wants me ta do?"

He tried to think of something soft little Kimble would hate. "Hmm...Hit yourself. Hard."

'Shay didn't even think twice. She smashed her own fist into her face.

"Hey!" Zander howled in protest, waking. He'd been caught completely off guard.

Leon squealed with laughter. This was too good.

'Shay ignored the protests of her sibling and sat up, dripping grey gel from her nose. She hated this place and everything in it besides the cats. What was a little pain to her? In fact, she found it wasn't that bad at all. In fact, she kinda liked it. "Wuz that good enough fer ya?"

"Sure!" Leon said happily and tossed her a ball of plasma.

_You sick little cunt!_ Zander howled from within, rattling his chains in his fury.

Lakotashay didn't care. The plasma healed the injury from her self abuse and she lay back on her side, buzzed now. There was nothing like a good plasma high to take away the pain. She closed her eyes and let the warmth of it drift her off to sleep.

Zander paced in the circle of light, unhappy. He disliked 'Shay intensely, especially her violence. He was rough, to be sure, but she was reckless and mean about it, without purpose. At least when he hurt people, he had a reason. The thought of that made him remember Logan and the mean things he had said. That stupid asshole. He was owed some serious payback. If it wasn't for him, Kim would still be out here and not that sick bitch 'Shay. This was all Logan's fault and if Zander had the chance, he was going to make that fucker pay. That was a promise, as good as truth.

Zander looked over at Kimble a felt a stab of concern. The pilot was balled up tight in his chains, turned away from everything. Kimble he tolerated because Zander understood all cruelty had to be tempered with love. Kimble was necessary and he was missed. He had tried to rouse the pilot, but he refused to wake, still too hurt to want to face the world again. Zander sighed. He would have to build his strength and try to keep 'Shay under control. He hoped it wouldn't be too difficult.

-----------------------------------

The next day brought the first of some big changes for Lakotashay. When she woke, the first thing she tried to do was smash the mirror in the bathroom and cut herself with a large shard of glass. The noise of the shattering glass was louder than she thought and Leon had come running on the double. There was gel gushing out of her everywhere and she laughed with glee. She saw him coming and fled, phasing through the wall into the next room in an attempt to get away from the one guy who could heal her. Oops, her mistake. It ended up being Kyle's room. One quick shout from him brought out Zander and he shut off all of her power, keeping her from phasing away again. Unable to defend herself, she was easy to take down. Kyle contained her with a shield while Leon tossed some plasma at her and that was the end of that. When Gambit had said that Lakotashay was trapped, he hadn't been kidding.

Kyle forced the uncooperative Siskan down the stairs and gave her a thorough chewing out. He hated to do it, but was forced to remind her of her promise the Master not to kill herself. The idea of the whole Master thing turned his stomach, but there was no mistaking her response to it. She bowed her head and didn't argue. Her further punishment was to sit through an hour long lecture given by Headmaster Nate on the evils of suicide. If she tried to tune him out, he smacked her head with a ruler. Zander just laughed.

Kyle informed her that she was now going to be trained as she had agreed. The camp had small shacks and each one was a mini-classroom. 'Shay was hauled out to one of the training shacks and found Joshua waiting there, a sword in hand. He was dressed in a black King's uniform, looking strange without his robes. The fact is one cannot teach the sword in that kind of dress, he wanted the freedom of movement a regular shirt and pants would provide. He wore small sunglasses to protect his pink eyes from the bright morning sun. He twirled his sword with casual ease and raised a hand in invitation.

At first 'Shay was all over it. Here was another chance at destruction, if she could get Joshua to strike her with the sword, she might achieve her goal. Her hope was short lived. Joshua had brought swords, but they were dull and for practice only, they wouldn't cut butter on a hot day. Joshua wasn't so stupid as to give an edged weapon to a beginner.

She snarled in protest, but Zander shoved her out of the way and stepped up to his new teacher. He took the offered practice sword and they went to it. It was a difficult lesson. 'Shay kept trying to win control of the body and would jump in front of Joshua's blade, trying to make him to at least bruise or scraper her. Zander just phased, not letting the body get damaged. It wouldn't have mattered, Leon had been forced along as well. He sat in the corner just in case 'Shay pulled something stupid and another repair was needed.

Joshua was pleased with the progress of his student, the interruptions from 'Shay not withstanding. They didn't last once she figured out she wasn't going to get her way. Zander learned quickly, having some experience with swords himself. He made up for lost time quickly and sparred with enthusiasm. Joshua gave him some tapes to study on swordplay and he was released.

They went next to another shack where they were to be taught hand to hand combat. Back at Cameron's hideout, this course had been offered to Kimble but he had always declined, not wanting to do anything that might hurt someone else. Zander had no such reservations. Zander was tired from working out with the sword, however, and he left 'Shay in charge, cautioning her not to do anything stupid and lay down in his chains, exhausted.

'Shay didn't want to do anything. She resisted, just standing there in cool defiance until Kyle threatened her with another lecture, this one on the evils of sloth and underachievement. Kyle was not teaching this class himself, 'Shay was supposed to learn and spar with the instructor, a man who was introduced to her only as Texas. He was a large man, capable, and had no idea what he'd just gotten himself into with his new student.

'Shay put up a token fight, but soon found a fun game. She deliberately turned into the blows of her opponent, making Texas hit her. She wasn't using any power to spar, so Zander couldn't really do anything about it, just as he had been unable to stop her from hitting herself. 'Shay found she liked the pain, it fueled her anger and newly hatched masochistic tendencies. Texas did his best to try and work around his uncooperative student, but she was a dancer and quick on her feet.

Kyle watched her misbehave with growing ire. He snapped at her to stop screwing around and she lashed out in anger. Her instructor had been standing by, waiting patiently. She reacted to Kyle's shout viciously, not at Kyle, but at her unsuspecting instructor with fury and broke Texas' nose with one bold strike to the face he never saw coming.

Texas gripped his face and bowed out, backing away with bloodied hands. He wanted nothing more to do with her.

" 'Shay!" Kyle howled in anger and stepped out onto the mat, protecting her victim with a shield. "Quit that shit!"

"Makes me!" she hissed and Kyle raised his fists, he couldn't help it. She just smiled at him until he lowered his hands and then she walked out, turning her back on his angry words. She was blocked at the door by a shield Kyle had raised, he wasn't going to let her dominate the situation. Zander held up his end and wouldn't allow her to phase through it, so she just stood there, her chin high with defiance. Kyle saw he was getting nowhere and then dragged her up to her room where he had her locked in. She smiled in the darkness as she heard Kyle screaming into the phone at Cameron.

--------------------------------

Two more weeks passed by. Lakotashay was untrusted and escorted from class to class, never left alone for a minute. She soon realized that temper tantrums on her part only earned her boring lectures or an extra day's academic class. She learned it was best to just go along with things for now and wait for an opportunity for disruption to offer itself

Lakotashay missed her girl skin and tried her best to feminize this body. She kept her hair loose and free and covered up as much as possible. Her movements were grossly exaggerated and her voice shrill and high. Sometimes she braided her hair to keep it from her eyes, but not always. When she had packed, she had taken some of Gail's things left behind. She had tried to wear some of Gail's clothes, her sports bra shirts in particular, but Leon threw a fit and destroyed all the things she had taken. 'Shay flew into a violent tantrum and they fought bitterly. Kyle had to come in and forcibly separate them, again with Zander's assistance. With the clothes now gone, 'Shay was forced to wear just the simple black uniform of the Kings and be quiet.

She practiced with the sword and watched the tapes Joshua had given them, making up for lost time quickly. Zander had eagerly embraced the craft, her memories were his, and it was clear it wouldn't be long before a more talented instructor would be needed. Joshua watched this with sharp amusement, happy to see his predictions of this ShaRain warrior being theirs come true. He never spoke the word Channeler again, but it hung in his eyes like a promise. 'Shay wouldn't look at him, she hated that look of adoration in his eyes. It was like she was a whore, an object to be used. If he had approached her sexually, things might have been different. He made no such move and so he repulsed her.

Michael was teaching her as well. He drilled her on the guns, rapidly making up for all the time Kimble had lost, and wasn't happy until she could build and disassemble any weapon he gave her. It wasn't long before she knew all the guns and what they were best used for. He set up a target range and she became a perfect shot. She made up for all the lessons Kimble blew off in no time, making sure to learn all she could about laser sights as well. He taught her grenades and small explosives. He co-ordinated with Kyle in teaching her how best to use telekinetic shields in defense against an armed opponent, showing her how the knowledge of guns helped her to protect her people.

Kyle did his share, too. 'Shay wasn't allowed to harm another sparring partner in hand to hand combat as she had the first day. He had taken over the hand to hand combat teacher's role permanently, letting Texas leave with his dignity, and used his powerful shields against her. She actually didn't mind all that much, it made her crafty and skillful. She still found ways to make Kyle hit her. It enraged him which made her happy and she gloated loudly, pissing him off even more.

Leon watched all this with amusement. He was never far from her side, being there to repair her of she tried anything, and he had grown to like Lakotashay very much. He found her cruelty amusing and loved to watch her get a rise out of Kyle. It made all this worthwhile. He was bored to tears here at the camp, there was no decent television reception and he wasn't allowed to leave to go to the movies or anything. They didn't dare have him gone in case 'Shay injured herself purposely or otherwise. That was okay, he had thought of a new game to help pass the time.

--------------------------

One night, on the beginning of the third week here at the camp, Leon opened the door to their room and shut it tightly behind him. He had brought Lakotashay a little surprise. She would be here soon, he couldn't wait. He carried a sealed cardboard box and shoved it next to his bed, away from where the pilot would see it.

Lakotashay came in, sullen and somber as always now. She set her books down on her desk and sat, ready to do some homework. With no Club here to amuse her, this was the only thing that occupied her time. She was breezing through the academics now, hoping just to get through them so she would stop having to go. She had swiftly completed Michael's course of weapons and he only required her to keep up her Marksmanship. Her shooting was excellent and Michael was pleased. 'Shay could have cared less. It was all bullshit to her. Her wishes and desires meant nothing to anyone here.

She said nothing to Leon, she never did, and went right to work.

"Hey, 'Shay. I got somethin' for ya."

"I ain't in no mood." The "hit myself" game had worn thin long ago. "I gots work to do." "You'll like this. C'mon."

"This had better be good," Zander growled, his frustration spilling over. He disliked Leon intensely, but his vow to the Master held. Plus, he wasn't so stupid as to alienate his food supply.

Leon shuddered nervously. He was fearful of Zander and his anger, but not enough to stop. He knew 'Shay was stronger and would do as he wished. "C'mon."

Lakotashay sighed and came over. Leon took out the box. "You know how they say we've got to be ready for anything? We have to be ready to do what we have to protect the team?"

"Yeah?" Her disinterest was plain. She had heard this line from Kyle too many times to count.

"I got the idea maybe you didn't take that vow so seriously. I want you to prove you'll go all the way," Leon said, his eyes hard.

"I ain't gots no time fer yer stupid games."

Leon held a good sized ball of plasma. He'd been holding back more and more, building up her need and making her ever more his servant. It had been a while since he'd dosed her this high. He saw her eyes open wide with desire. She wanted this, oh yes. He had her complete attention. "You do as I say, and I'll give you this."

"As big as that?" Leon was prone to teasing her. She wasn't going to be toyed with this time.

"Yes, I promise."

His shine told her the truth of his words. "All right."

Leon opened the box. One of Headmaster Nate's many cats slithered out. It hadn't been that hard to catch one, they were all over the place and most of them were overly friendly like this one. He had lured it over with some food that had some drugs in it. The sedatives had worn off but the feline was still a little high. She was a friendly beast just the same. She went right up to Lakotashay and rubbed herself on the pilot, purring. 'Shay grinned and petted her. She loved the feel of her soft fur and the heat from her tiny body.

"Pretty, isn't she?" Leon said with a sly grin.

"Yeah. Is she yers?"

"No, 'Shay. She belongs to you now."

Lakotashay's smile grew wider. "Thanks, she's really nice."

Leon crouched down low. He made the plasma ball come back. 'Shay focused on it immediately and forgot about the cat.

"You like lots of things I give you, yes?" Leon said suggestively.

"Yeah."

"I need to know how much you want this, 'Shay." This was how the game was played. Leon always wanted something in return.

"I wants it...I always wants it..." Lakotashay reached out for the plasma, but Leon kept it away.

"Show me how much."

"How?"

"Kill the cat."

Lakotashay backed away in horror and grasped the animal protectively. She was mean, she was cruel, yes, but not like that. "I cain't do that! She didn' do nuthin ta me."

"If you don't, I'll walk out that door and you'll never have this again. You know I'm the only one who can do this for you, only me. I have the power. I know you want it." He rolled the ball around in his hand, watching her mesmerized eyes with glee.

"I--I--I cain't..."

_Don' even thinks about it, 'Shay,_ Zander growled.

"You want this or not?" Leon asked impatiently. "I ain't got all day."

Lakotashay didn't immediately answer. She held the cat close to her chest and petted it. It was loving the attention and purring loudly now, winking its large green eyes up at her with joy. 'Shay was torn, nowhere near as calm as she looked. She was coming apart, torn by self loathing and her desire for the hot plasma rush. The plasma was winning.

"Well, I guess it's goodbye then," Leon stood and walked over to the door, taking the plasma with him.

"Wait!" Lakotashay said with a small sob as Leon's hand touched the door knob.

Leon turned slowly, dragging out the moment. He was loving this like nothing else. What a wonderful new game he had devised. "Yes?"

"Cain't I do sumpthin' else? I'll do anathin!"

"I don't want anything else." Leon came back and crouched down in front of her. He held the ball of plasma right under her nose. She could smell it. Feel it's warmth. Her body shook and cried out for it. She gripped the cat tightly, deciding.

"Please...Don' makes me do this..."

"You have to. It's what being a protector is. If you can't do this, you can't protect us. If you can't do your job, the Master will lock you up someplace you can't get out of and you'll be kept alive forever. You'll never get out, never be free."

Lakotashay shook with unconcealed terror at the thought. Leon had found the mark, the right thing to say. She didn't care if Cameron liked her or not, but she was horrified at the thought of being locked away without a way to die.

_Don't be so stupid, 'Shay. This boy is playin' you, _Zander complained. He couldn't believe she had been suckered so easily.

'Shay said nothing more. In one swift movement, she snapped the cat's neck, just as Zander had done to a porr unsuspecting Clansman all those years ago. She had used her hands, not her power, and he had been unable to stop it.

_Geez, 'Shay. Yer one sick bitch, _Zander said and turned away from the screen in the Black Room, not wanting to see any more. This was so out of control. He was going to have to do something, the sooner the better.

Kimble had seen none of this. He was still balled up in his corner, unmoving.

Leon grinned at the pilot. "Well, that wasn't so hard now, was it?"

Lakotashay was her usual silent self. She cradled the dead cat's body in her arms now like a baby, and smiled slightly as all her emotions drained away. This hadn't been so hard, not really. Why, the poor beast hadn't made a sound. She petted it gently and watched as its tiny shimmer faded away. "You owes me some plasma," she said after a moment.

Leon smiled and tossed the plasma at her. She took it greedily and laughed as its heat spilled into her, washing all of her sins away. She fell over, instantly high and giggled insanely, happy now. She closed her eyes and slipped away.

Leon stood over her, his grin wide. That had been fun, truly. He couldn't believe she had given in so easily. It made him wonder just how far she would go. This was a large farm with many different kinds of animals, there were plenty of potential targets. He lifted the dead cat from her limp and unresisting arms and carried it away. It wouldn't do for this to be found, he couldn't afford for his new game to be discovered, not when there was so much more fun to be had. He slipped away, leaving her there on the floor, twitching slightly in her fevered plasma dreams.

"Father..." she whispered softly. "I'm comin'. Won't be long...won't be long..."

To be continued in Channeler Rising.


End file.
